The first time I saw “Glengarry Glen Ross,” David Mamet’s play about sleazy real estate salesmen (con artists, really), was in February, 1987, at the Arena Stage in Washington, DC. I didn’t know anyone in the cast.
The second time I saw it was the 1992 movie version and I knew all of them: Al Pacino, Jack Lemmon, Alan Arkin, Ed Harris, Kevin Spacey, and Jonathan Pryce. Alec Baldwin was in there, as well, doing a new scene written for the film by Mamet.
The third time I saw “GGR” was this week on Broadway, with another cast of well-known actors: Kieran Culkin, Bob Odenkirk, Michael McKean, and Bill Burr. Baldwin’s “Always Be Closing” speech was nowhere to be seen, and I’m sure some of my fellow theatergoers wondered where it went.
But I didn’t miss it at all, because the rest of the play is so well-written and these guys executed it perfectly. Mamet’s dialogue has always relied on cadence, the timing of every syllable in every verbal interaction is important. That’s never more apparent than in the play’s second scene, in which Burr and McKean sit in a Chinese restaurant across from their office, talking about the frustrations of their jobs.
Burr, who has built a healthy career as a standup comic with a short fuse, makes an impressive Broadway debut, imbuing his character with a roiling anger as he lambastes their employers and their customers. Along the way, he tries to convince McKean they should steal the company’s best sales leads instead of working with the no-chance, third-rate, prospective buyers they’ve been given.
Throughout his career, McKean has developed perfect comic rhythms with his scene-mates, from “Laverne and Shirley” through his work in Christopher Guest’s movies, and it’s fun to watch as he is barely able to get a word in while asking Burr “Are we actually talking about this?” To which Burr replies, “No, we’re just speaking about it. As an idea.”
Odenkirk (who has worked with both Burr and McKean in the “Breaking Bad”/”Better Call Saul” universe) also makes an impressive Broadway debut as the veteran salesman who’s lost his edge. Desperate to get his name back up on the sales board, he begs and tries to bribe the office manager, played by Donald Webber Jr. (who has “Hamilton” and “Severance” on his resume) to give him some of the prime leads.
And then there’s Culkin’s character, the brash but successful top sales guy with a facility for using sweet talk and double talk simultaneously to convince his marks to buy worthless land in Florida. As Culkin proved in “Succession” and “A Real Pain,” he’s very adept at turning on the charm and smarm while tossing around epithets and making promises he never intends to keep.
Mamet’s script is full of profanity because that’s how these guys spoke in the 1980s, when the play takes place. There’s also a healthy dose of racism, particularly from Burr’s character, who says several derogatory things about people from Poland, China, and especially India which should sound shocking to modern ears, but to my surprise elicited laughter from the audience. I found the reaction much more offensive than the words being spoken.
But that’s a minor quibble compared to the overall impact of “Glengarry Glen Ross,” which four decades after it won the Pulitzer Prize still serves as an indictment of these unsavory, immoral men — particularly in the hands of performers as talented as these.