“Always be closing!” Alec Baldwin shouts at a group of seedy salesman in 1992’s Glengarry Glen Ross and, as tempting as it can be to be snarky about Alec Baldwin, I have to admit that he delivered that line so well that even I briefly worried about my job and I was just watching the movie!
Baldwin plays Blake, the top salesman at a company that sells worthless real estate to people who are dumb enough or trusting enough to believe what its salesmen tell them about always pursuing their dreams. Murray and Mitch, the never-seen but often-mentioned owners of the company, send Blake to the New York office to try to inspire its salesmen to stop whining about their terrible leads and to actually start selling. Blake inspires through bullying. Coffee isn’t for losers, he hisses. The salesman who makes the most money will win a car. The salesman who makes the second-most money will get a set of steak knives. (Blake even brings the knives with him.) Everyone else will get fired. Blake’s speech and Baldwin’s cameo are justifiably famous. Baldwin is only in the film briefly but he’s unforgettable, whether he’s bragging about how much his watch costs or if he’s holding up a pair of brass balls to tell the salesmen (and they are all men) what they’re lacking. He not only attacks them for not being good at their jobs. He also attacks their masculinity. It’s a totally ludicrous speech but it works because the film is taking place in a ludicrous world, one where desperate men try to appear confident as they sell worthless land.
The only salesman who misses Blake’s speech is Ricky Roma (Al Pacino), who is busy conning a friendly but nervous fellow named James Lingk (Jonathan Pryce) out of his money. Roma is probably the only salesman who could have stood up to Blake and that’s because Roma is the only one who has any confidence. Roma’s on a streak. Roma’s winning that car!
Dave Moss (Ed Harris) isn’t going to win that car. Moss is steak knife bound. Moss is bitter and angry and won’t stop talking about how he’s not being treated with enough respect by Murray and Mitch. When the hated office manager, John Williamson (Kevin Spacey), hands out a bunch of leads, Moss is quick to point out that the leads are worthless. When Williamson refuses to hand out the leads identifying prospective customers for the “Glengarry Heights Development,” Moss tells another salesman, the neurotic and weak-willed George Aaronow (Alan Arkin), that they should break into the office, steal them, and sell them to a competitor. Aaronow isn’t a thief but Moss insists that, just because he listened to Moss talk about it, Aaronow is now legally considered to be an accomplice.
And then there’s Shelley Levene (Jack Lemmon), who used to be the top salseman but who is now a desperate mess, begging people to listen to his pitch and insisting that he’s only hit a temporary dry spell. He has a sick daughter. He needs the job and he needs the money and he needs the good leads. Williamson offers to sell them to Levene but the two men then get caught up in arguing about the specifics.
Welcome to Mamet World. Glengarry Glen Ross is a film adaptation of a David Mamet play so it’s not surprising that the film is about a group of men who can argue about anything. The characters in this film talk a lot and the dialogue is so profane, angry, and desperate that it can be easy to overlook that it’s often very funny as well. Roma is having fun. He loves his job, even when he’s yelling at Williamson for ruining a possible sale. Even when the salesmen come to the office and discover that someone has robbed the place and that they’re now all suspects, they continue to try to outhustle everyone around them. Roma tries to sell Lingk on some worthless land. Aaronow, Levene, and Moss try to sell the cops on their innocence. Williamson tries to sell the salesmen on the idea that he’s a boss who is worthy of respect. They’re all born salesmen, even if some of them aren’t very good at it.
Glengarry Glen Ross is very much a filmed play, dialogue-heavy and largely confined to that office and the restaurant nearby. (Levene does visit one prospective investor at home but it doesn’t reduce the film’s staginess.) Fortunately, the combination of Mamet’s dialogue and the performances of the amazing cast holds our interest. Pacino was nominated for an Oscar for his performance. Jack Lemmon should have been as well. (Lemmon’s tendency to overact works well with Levene’s character.) Alec Baldwin and Kevin Spacey, problematic as they may be for modern audiences, both give outstanding supporting performances. You’ll want to hug Alan Arkin. You’ll want someone to punch Ed Harris. Glengarry Glen Ross holds up as a darkly humorous examination of desperate men.
Through the Shattered Lens 