Moss: “What's your name?”
Blake: “Fuck you. That's my name. You know why, mister? 'Cause you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight, I drove an eighty thousand dollar BMW. *THAT'S* my name.”
Roma: “You never open your mouth until you know what the shot is.”
Roma: “Fuck you, John! You know your business, I know mine. Your business is being an asshole. I find out whose fucking cousin you are, I'm going to go to him and figure out a way to have your ass. Fuck you!”
I currently work at a company in which the salesfolks alternately don’t understand the technology, can’t talk above a whisper, exhibit an alarming lack of energy or caring about their positions, and rarely show up to the actual office -- or all of the above. So when it came time to sit down and watch “Glengarry Glen Ross” (I had seen bits and pieces over the years), it served as a wake-up call as to just what a weak-ass sales organization I had been dragged into.
Now to be fair, I had once worked at a testosterone-fueled pit of latent homosexuality, peopled by chest-thumping, fist-bumping, cigar-chomping, fake-golf-swinging, lie-spewing, coffee-swilling, chicken-finger-ingesting salesfolks powered by mini-scooters, Bluetooth technology and enough knowledge of the Interwebs to be dangerous. Well, “Glengarry Glen Ross” was essentially that atmosphere on ‘roids.
This flick, based on a Pulitzer Prize-winning play by David Mamet, was basically a morality tale about what happens when accountability goes apeshit and grows weapons. After the opening credits roll for seemingly an interminable amount of time, we’re shocked into complete attention by the arrival of Blake -- a mako shark in a nice suit who presides over one of the greatest scenes in the history of cinema. Played by Alec Baldwin in a career-defining turn, Blake is sent by the owners of a real estate company to hold underperforming sales to team to the fire. Punctuating every other word with “fuck” or some derivative, he unveils a new contest to the four salesfolks: sell the most and win a Cadillac, sell second-most and take home a set of steak knives, sell third-most … and you’re fired. Get the fuck out.
“Put. That coffee. Down.
Coffee’s for closers only.”
“Your name is ‘you're wanting,’ and you can't play the man's game, you can't close them, and then tell your wife your troubles. 'Cause only one thing counts in this world: get them to sign on the line which is dotted. You hear me you fuckin' faggots?”
After Blake comes in and leaves like a hurricane-like vortex of fury, we begin to see the landscape of the office: mousy office manager (Kevin Spacey) trying without success to run an operation of veteran, disgruntled salesmen. As John Williamson, Spacey gets shit on by everybody before finally getting his day near the end. Quickly, Shelley “The Machine” Levene emerges as the star of the show, a past-his-prime legend who moves from smarmy and charming to vindictive and spiteful thanks to the nimble dexterity of Jack Lemmon. Dave Moss (played by Ed Harris in an underrated effort) is too busy bitching and blaming everyone but himself -- and we all know people like this -- to weak-willed cohort George Aaronow (Alan Arkin). All three struggle in the shadow of the effortlessly smooth Ricky Roma, who arrives on the scene later in the movie and serves as the flesh-and-blood representation of one of the film’s taglines, “Lie. Cheat. Steal. All in a day’s work.” Tremendously brought to life by Al Pacino, Roma sells almost by accident or osmosis, mixing in life lessons (“Didja ever take a dump that made you feel like you slept for 12 hours?”) that seem to lead haphazardly to an offer of a prime piece of land in sunny Florida.
Bolstered by the fact that the word “fuck” is thrown out there 138 times and “shit” another 50, “Glengarry Glen Ross” is a more than worthy predecessor to another movie that works in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay (paraphrasing “Christmas Story”): “The Big Lebowksi.” In fact, the cast jokingly referred to the flick as “Death of a Fuckin’ Salesman.” Despite the incredible cast, the movie didn’t enjoy much commercial success, instead thriving as a quasi-cult classic. One of the reasons for the lack of initial success may have something to do with all the obstacles that the production had to overcome just to get made.
Dragged down by several stop-and-start efforts, “Glengarry Glen Ross” had only a modest budget, which led to the actors taking dramatic pay cuts just be attached to the film. Baldwin was a thorn in the side as usual, and he eventually took the job based solely on the strength of the script, putting aside contract arguments. Director James Foley helped get Baldwin on board by slating him to play the Roma character if Pacino was unavailable; so Baldwin studied the part, but Pacino eventually became available, allowing Baldwin to slide into the smaller Blake role. Most reports indicate that every top male lead name in Hollywood expressed interest in being involved and were rumored as casting options (there were no auditions), and the legendary Lemmon went on to say it was the best acting ensemble he’d ever been a part of—four actors with Academy Award wins and two others with Academy Award nominations. Showing the professionalism and respect amongst the cast, scenes that occurred off-camera were often acted out anyway, and the actors would often show up on set during days they weren’t needed just to watch their fellow actors’ scenes.
Though producers Jerry Tokofsky and Stanley R. Zupnik got into a heated and long-drawn-out fight over money and credit, Foley added some directorial techniques that were intriguing. He used images of trains in intermission-type ways, allowing them to serve as a metaphor for things going off the tracks and the tension building like a runaway freight train. Also, one has to think that that lack of diversity in settings is designed to evoke a feeling of claustrophobia. Working a flick that essentially exists in only two different locations also makes it adamant that the pace and dialogue be stellar—two areas where “Glengarry Glen Ross” hits a home run.
Since its release in 1992, this movie has not only served as a well-spring of memorable quotes, but has been used as a living training video for salesfolks the world over. Possessing a blend of emotions ranging from hilarity to desperation to mortality to morality to many others, “Glengarry Glen Ross” is, as one of its taglines espouses, “A story for everyone who works for a living.”
And even for those who pretend at it.
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