Review: Glengarry Glen Ross Broadway Revival Never Quite Closes the Deal

If nothing else, the new Broadway revival of Glengarry Glen Ross demonstrates just how difficult it is to get playwright David Mamet’s distinctive dialogue style exactly right. At the beginning, as real-estate salesman Shelley Levene (Bob Odenkirk) attempts to convince office manager John Williamson (Donald Webber Jr.) to give him better sales leads, one can sense a slightly stilted quality in Odenkirk’s motormouthed delivery, with even the many profanities peppering his speech coming off as unnatural—and to a somewhat lesser degree in Kieran Culkin’s performance as young hotshot salesman Richard Roma. The magical fusion of high stylization and gritty naturalism that makes Mamet’s best work soar, never quite happens here—which is not to say the production doesn’t have its compensations.

Levene, Roma, and Williamson all work for a real-estate company owned by the never-seen Mitch and Murray. While Roma is on the rise, Levene is down on his luck, to the point where he tries bribery to kickstart his stalled career. Speaking of crimes, fellow employee Dave Moss (Bill Burr) is disgruntled enough that, while sitting with George Aaronow (Michael McKean) in a Chinese restaurant, he starts planning a burglary of their office to steal the best leads and sell them to a competitor. After a successful break-in, a detective, Baylen (Howard W. Overshown), arrives on scene to question the employees one by one.

Mamet presents a dog-eat-dog world in Glengarry Glen Ross, an encapsulation of the dehumanizing effects of capitalism. It was written in 1983, and because the text is performed complete here (including a crucial exchange between Roma and Williamson towards the end that was cut from both the official published script and the 1992 film adaptation), contemporary audiences may wince at some of the dated bits (a couple moments of racist humor in particular).

Nevertheless, the ruthless world it presents is still very much with us today. It also remains arguably Mamet’s finest work as a playwright, his brand of gutter poetry mixing with sharp characterizations to create a work that feels heightened while staying grounded in a recognizable reality.

Or, at least, that’s how it ought to come off in a top-flight production. There’s no doubt that director Patrick Marber’s new production generally looks great. Set and costume designer Scott Pask also worked on the recent Broadway revival of Mamet’s American Buffalo, where his astonishingly detailed set was as memorable as its performances. His designs for the Chinese restaurant in Act 1 and the real-estate office in Act 2 are similarly impressive in their attention to detail and the lived-in atmosphere they exude.

As always, though, the performances are the main draw of Glengarry Glen Ross. The supporting cast is unimpeachable. Webber cuts an appropriately oily and menacing figure as consummate company man Williamson. By contrast, John Pirruccello sketches in a brief yet vivid portrait of a working-class stooge as James Lingk, a target of Roma’s latest real-estate sale who desperately tries to back out of it. McKean plays Aaronow as slightly doddering and spiritually exhausted, finding subtle comedy and pathos in his small role.

Things are less consistent when it comes to the lead trio, however. Burr is the most comfortable of the three with Mamet-speak, embodying Moss’s seething resentment with threatening force. Odenkirk’s best moments come when he struts around the office boasting about the sale he has just closed, though he’s less convincing in putting across Levene’s sweaty desperation (the quality Jack Lemmon memorably highlighted in the 1992 film).

The second act also shows Culkin at his best, especially when he comes up with distinctive bits of physical comedy to underscore Roma’s own frustrations. And yet, for all his best efforts, Culkin never quite transcends a gnawing sense of fundamental miscasting. In his long, monologue-heavy first scene, in which he connects with Lingk at the Chinese restaurant, Roma comes off more as that annoying barroom philosopher you’d rather stay away from than the manipulative smooth talker with the magnetic common touch that could explain his sales success.

Ultimately, what’s missing from this revival of Glengarry Glen Ross is that sense of knife-edge despair that might have made the play seem as harrowing as it is darkly funny. That probably won’t matter to the theatergoers paying top dollar to see their favorite television and stand-up comedy stars in person. For some of them, this may be their first encounter with this classic play, and they could do worse. But this new Glengarry never quite makes a successful pitch for its bill of goods.