Onstage: Review: Glengarry Glen Ross

The program cover for New Edgecliff Theatre’s production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross has a simple illustration: two dogs snarling and fighting. But each one is wearing a man’s tie, and that anthropomorphic detail gives a sense of what’s to come: In a season of shows that NET has described as “Men Behaving Badly,” Mamet’s 1984 Pulitzer Prize winner might be the purest distillation.

First we eavesdrop on three conversations in a Chinese restaurant between men who work in a high-pressure if low-class real estate office in Florida. They’re in the midst of a sales contest that’s not just about prizes like a new Cadillac or a trip to Hawaii. They’re in a struggle that’s founded on survival of the fittest.

Of the four agents, only two will be around when the contest ends. Shelley Levene (Herb Duval), a one-time sales star who’s probably past retirement age, is no longer able to close a deal. He’s pleading with his arrogant sales manager John Williamson (Robert Pavlovich) for some decent leads.

Then we listen in while angry Dave Moss (Mike Dennis) harangues wimpy George Aranow (Don Volpenheim) about being unappreciated. He badgers George and tries to coerce him into participating in a payback scheme that involves staging a burglary at their office and selling stolen sales leads to a competitor.

Next we witness star salesman Ricky Roma (Michael Shooner) philosophize his way into a conversation with spineless Jim Lingk (Derek Snow), an unwitting and vulnerable sales prospect.

That fascinating first act — each scene is more monologue than dialogue — leads to Act II in the burglarized sales office a day later. As a no-nonsense police investigator (A.J. Ford) questions each man in an offstage office, the others agonize over their present situation and what the future holds.

Shelley claims he’s made a big sale, but some cracks in his confidence are apparent. George is convinced he’s going down the drain even though he told Dave he wouldn’t be part of his scheme. Dave storms in and out. Ricky is cocky but sees he’s losing his grip. Everything begins to unravel when Jim shows up and asks for the return of his downpayment.

This is the kind of show that ambitious actors love to sink their teeth into, and director Brian Robertson has a set of solid performers, including three Cincinnati area professionals (Duval, Pavlovich and Shooner are all members of Actors Equity). Shooner has the showiest role as fast-talking, self-centered Roma, a part that defines the now familiar machine-gun style of writing in Mamet’s plays. But Pavlovich also nails his smaller portrait of an unfeeling manager of men with more experience; there’s a whiff of uncertainty about him that makes him worth watching. Duval captures the fear of a man past his prime who remembers but can’t recapture the glory.

Each actor clearly gets his role, but the cast doesn’t coalesce into a coherent ensemble in Act II. Glengarry Glen Ross should be about the sparks that fly when these rough characters intersect — the image of the fighting dogs on the program cover comes to mind, even though Roma characterizes them as “a dying breed.” Instead, we see more of the monologue mode from Act I.

I attended opening night, so perhaps the cast will generate some electricity soon. I hope so: This script — full of foul language, crude behavior and testosterone to the max — deserves that kind of energy.

This article appears in May 7-13, 2008.