Half
past midnight in the afternoon
by Michael
Dresdner
L to R: Joe Grant, Mike Slease, Kyle Sinclair, Alan Wilkie, James Winkler
Photos by Kate Paterno-Lick
Lakewood
Playhouse, under the tutelage of John Munn, who also directed this play, is presenting
David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross as this season’s “out of the box” offering, their
term for shows that are more challenging to audiences. Yes, it’s risky, for a
number of reasons, but it’s also a play that won both a Pulitzer and a Tony, so
it’s got pedigree.
Most of
the action is set in an office of men selling real estate for investment
purposes to hoi polloi dazzled by dreams of greed, a practice once derogatorily
termed “swamp busting.” The set by James Venturini is spot on accurate, dressed
with beyond-perfect props and amazingly sweet details by Jeffery Weaver. Costumes
are right on the money, as they always are when done by Alex Lewington.
L to R: Joe Grant, Kyle Sinclair
The main
denizens of the office are the office manager, a nepotism-placed ferret named
John Williamson (Kyle Sinclair) and four salesmen. W. Scott Pinkston does an
outstanding job of creating Richard
Roma, the slick, self-confident predator currently at the top of the sales
heap. Similarly, Joseph Grant is excellent as Shelly Levene, once a powerhouse
salesman now reduced to desperation, trapped in a job that has squeezed him out
like a used lemon, but forlornly trying to prove he’s still got it.
L to R: James Winkler, Alan Wilkie
Dave
Moss (Alan Wilkie) is a crude, conniving man, easily driven to the unethical,
but cagy enough to protect himself by roping others into his nefarious schemes.
George Aaronow (James Winkler) is the nebbish of the office, a plodder who is
perhaps more aware than anyone else of how much he hates his job, and for good
reason.
L to R: W. Scott Pinkston, Frank Roberts
Theirs
is soul-sucking work where the brief exhilaration from landing a sale barely
makes a dent in the constant degradation of what they do; sell land for more
than it’s worth to people who don’t want it and often can’t afford it. The
stink of stress and self-hatred clings to an activity where the only job satisfaction
is money. Not surprisingly, they’ve come to despise their customers, more marks
than clients; each other, because of the competition; and ultimately, themselves.
Rounding
out the cast are short but well-delivered appearances by Blake (Mike Slease), a
successful and arrogant bully from the head office there to apply pressure and
pit the salesmen against one another, James Lingk (Frank Roberts), a timorous,
hen-pecked client with buyer’s remorse, and a refreshingly calm and focused cop
named Baylen (Dave Hall.)
It’s a
strong cast, top to bottom, the proof of which came from a comment by my co-reviewer.
She said she just kept looking at Joe Grant (who plays the furtive, pathetic Shelly
Levene) and thinking “there must be something else you could do to make a
living.”
Here’s a
nugget I rarely share: Just past my second decade I was pressed to work in a “swamp
busting” office somewhat like this one. My horrified reaction to it went a long
way to convincing me to spend my life, as I in fact did, as a guitarmaker.
For
those of us who abhor such characters and endeavors, and there are many in the
community theatre circle, it’s hard to imagine leaving the theatre any way but
depressed. Of course, that may well be the point. Mamet is showing us the dark
reality of one particularly ugly facet of the working world, and to be fair,
that is one of the jobs theatre is supposed to do.
And what
of the famed “bad language” the play is noted for; all the “fucks” and related
verbal coarseness? Do men – and it is only men in this office and this play –
who are locked in a soul-numbing job in which they scorn their customers and hate
one another almost as much as themselves actually talk this way? Yes, Virginia,
they really do.
Granted,
there are patrons who would ask “But is that really necessary?” That’s the
wrong question. One should ask “is it really appropriate?” and the answer to
that is “yes, that level of realism is very appropriate,” and frankly, that’s
what makes it necessary, if theatre is to be honest.
Now for
the big question one must always ask after a night of theatre: Did I enjoy the
experience?
No, I didn’t.
But that’s
not because it wasn’t well done (it was), or because it was a bad property in
the sense of it being a poorly written play (it isn’t). It was because it opens
a doorway into a piece of reality that I’d rather not immerse myself in for two
hours.
As they
say, your results may vary; it might be just the thing your psyche needs.
Glengarry
Glen Ross
Jan 9th
to Feb 1st, 2015
Lakewood
Playhouse
Good review, my friend.
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