From: rhogan@chaph.usc.edu (Ron Hogan)
Subject: REVIEW: GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS
Reply-To: rhogan@chaph.usc.edu (Ron Hogan)
Organization: University of Southern California, Los Angeles, CA
Date: Tue, 15 Dec 1992 16:41:00 GMT
Followup-To: rec.arts.movies
Summary: r.a.m.r. #01638
Keywords: author=Hogan

			   GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS
		   A ten-step film review by Ron Hogan
			Copyright 1992 Ron Hogan

1)  The LA WEEKLY capsule review on this film describes David Mamet,
author of the original play and the screenplay, as a "goombah Pinter."
I like it.  The great thing about this screenplay, or any of Mamet's
best work, is the poetry of simplicity.  Like Pinter, Mamet deals in
terse dialogue, people who may not *do* anything spectacular, but who
reveal themselves gradually through what they say.  The minute that a
character opens his mouth in this film--and Alec Baldwin is a good
example of this--you know *exactly* where he's coming from.  Very few
writers could get as much out of a simple line like, "Will you go to
lunch?"  Mamet can use those words to say more about a personality than
most films reveal in entire scenes.

2)  If I was going to search for a parallel to this movie, I might say
RESERVOIR DOGS.  The significant difference between the two films is, of
course, which side of the law the group of men in each film is on.  But
both films feature a group of men who specialize in "dirty" work, who
define themselves by incessant talking about that work and how they do
what they do, and have vocabularies that would put Marine DIs to shame.
Take away the Reservoir Dogs' guns, age them about twenty years, stick
them behind desks, and you're heading towards GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS.  If
you were interested enough, I suspect that Norman Mailer's essay "The
White Negro" would provide some insight into these characters--but then
so would THE WILD BUNCH.

3)  GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS takes the goombah mentality and brings it into
the world of real estate.  Legitimates the capitalist warrior ethic that
is an undercurrent in RESERVOIR DOGS and THE WILD BUNCH.  In those
films, the dark aspects of the ethic are acknowledged by placing the
characters on the wrong side of the law--but the Reservoir Dogs still
wear suits.  Another example might be WALL STREET--Michael Douglas'
character is the high-price example of the powers that the real estate
agents "have" to have if they want to succeed.  "Always be closing" is
one of the mottos of the film--and "Salesmen are born not made."
Either you can make it in the capitalist market or you're dead weight.
As Baldwin says, "You're a good father?  Fuck you, go home and spend
time with your kids."

4)  Make no mistake about it, either--this is a man's world.  There was
a woman in the opening credits; if you look closely, you *may* see her.
But for the most part, women are off-screen, at the other end of the 
phone line, the ones that the agents have to exploit to make their deal,
or the ones who screw the deal for them.  They are something with which
to be dealt as men go about the important task of being men and making
their money.

5)  Jack Lemmon plays Shelly Levine, the one who doesn't seem to be able
to hack the business any more.  He isn't on the board, he can't close,
he is on the verge of losing it all if he doesn't get back in shape.
The role is a man on the edge, but still not ready to admit that he has
had it, still trying desperately to make a deal, either selling the
property or cutting an arrangement with his office manager, anything
that will let him keep his job.  He thinks he can still control the
situation, can still come up with the angle that will make everything
come his way--it's goombah desperation, and Lemmon makes it work.

6)  At the other end of the scale is Al Pacino as Ricky Roma.  While the
other agents (Lemmon, Ed Harris, and Alan Arkin) are scrambling through
the rain trying to score, Pacino sits high and dry in a bar and
virtually plays at being a philosopher-king, offering discourses on the
nature of morality and of capitalism.  All of which, naturally, is just
smooth talk on the way to getting his mark, Jonathan Pryce, to sign on
the line that is dotted.

7)  But let's look at one of those statements, the idea that property
isn't just the material object, but the potential events that object
represents, especially (in this context) the opportunity to generate
capital around the property.  In a way, it's the lesson of FERRIS
BUELLER'S DAY OFF (shiny cars aren't meant to be stored in the garage;
they're meant to be *driven*, dammit) and the nature of the capitalist
beast.  Money's value has always been symbolic--the cash is not as
valuable as what it represents, what you can do with it.

8)  That's what makes the Glengarry leads so damn important.  From an
outside perspective, it's a stack of cards with a bunch of names on
them.  Big effing deal, right?  Wrong.  Those names are information, and
information that can be used as capital.  Names that can generate sales,
sales that can rake in money.  That stack of cards becomes as valuable
as stocks or bonds because what can be done with it in the hands of the
right capitalist warrior.  That's why nobody likes the leads they've
been given--they're lousy capital.  They don't score.

9)  So it's urban capitalist soldiers of fortune, cruising the streets
and the bars and the office trying to make the big deal.  What film
style is going to work here?  *Noir*.  The shadows of Venetian blinds,
the rain that never stops coming down at night, the harsh glow of red
and blue neon shining in everybody's face, even the style of dress.

10) And the music: jazz.  Wayne Shorter, primarily.  And a soundtrack
that doesn't have to propel the film along its narrative path, since
Mamet's words are more than enough to keep you locked into the film.
The music is a background complement, reinforcing the tone without
overpowering it, and subtly adding to the noir nuances.

follow-ups and email welcome
Ron Hogan
rhogan@usc.edu

Newsgroups: rec.arts.movies