In the world of theater, gender-swapped productions have become a fascinating phenomenon, offering a unique lens to explore classic plays through a contemporary, often political, perspective. David Mamet's iconic play, Glengarry Glen Ross, has been reimagined with an all-female cast, directed by Patrick Marber, who previously helmed an all-male Broadway revival. This gender-swapped version, however, leaves much to be desired, failing to capture the essence of Mamet's portrayal of toxic masculinity and the cutthroat world of 1980s capitalism.
The Missing Darkness
What makes this production particularly intriguing is its attempt to subvert the traditional gender dynamics of the play. Mamet's original work is a masterclass in depicting the raw, unfiltered masculinity of the 1980s, where fast-talking, aggressive salesmen embody the ruthless nature of capitalism. However, in this gender-swapped version, the darkness that permeates Mamet's writing seems to have been lost in translation.
The female ensemble, donning trouser suits and skirts, are clearly playing at being men, a choice that creates a certain distance between the characters and the actors. This distance, while perhaps intentional, seems to hinder the audience's ability to connect with the characters on an emotional level. The high-energy, high-volume delivery of Mamet's witty dialogue feels more like a caricature of masculinity than a genuine exploration of its complexities.
A Lack of Empathy and the American Dream
One of the most striking aspects of the play is the portrayal of Levene, the elder salesman played by Indira Varma. In the original, Jack Lemmon's portrayal of Levene added a layer of compassion and tragedy, akin to Willy Loman from Death of a Salesman. However, Varma's interpretation leans more towards a caricature, an apoplectic fool surfing a caffeine high. The tragedy of Levene's failure to achieve the American dream, on a rigged playing field, is lost in this interpretation, as the focus seems to be more on mocking these men rather than empathizing with their struggles.
In contrast, Rosa Salazar's portrayal of the office alpha, Roma, is more successful. Salazar captures the smooth, confident wheeler-dealer, a character who demands attention and respect. Roma becomes the highlight of the production, a testament to Salazar's ability to embody the power and ruthlessness of Mamet's capitalists.
The Unresolved Gender Reversal
The other female characters, Aaronow and Moss, feel less defined, with their portrayals lacking the depth and complexity of their male counterparts. Williamson, the office manager, is functional but lacks the menace that one would expect from a character in such a cutthroat environment. The production's decision not to contemporize the corporate world further adds to the sense of disconnect.
As outgoing artistic director Matthew Warchus points out, gender-swapped productions can be motivated by various reasons, from gender parity to political statements. In this case, the purpose of the gender reversal feels unresolved. Is it a commentary on the nature of capitalism, where even women are forced to adopt masculine traits to succeed? Or is it a statement on the era of Margaret Thatcher, where women had to navigate a masculine world? These questions remain unanswered, leaving the audience with a sense of confusion rather than enlightenment.
A Missed Opportunity
In my opinion, this gender-swapped production of Glengarry Glen Ross fails to live up to the promise of its premise. While it offers an interesting take on Mamet's iconic play, it falls short in capturing the essence of his writing. The focus on magnification of masculinity, rather than exploring the complexities of gender dynamics in a capitalist world, leaves the production feeling flat and lacking in depth. It's a missed opportunity to delve into a fascinating exploration of gender and power, leaving the audience with more questions than answers.
