"Let me have your attention for a moment. You're talking
about what? You're talking about - bitching about that sale you shot,
some son of a bitch don't want to buy land, somebody don't want what
you're selling, some broad you're trying to screw, so forth. Let's
talk about something important..."
Glengarry Glen Ross
is a sort of postmodern Death of a Salesman, in which the Willy Lo-men
are not angst-ridden with thoughts of spiritual redemption.
Why? Because they have already sold their souls for the power of the
dollar, for the careers that they willingly place before their lives
and families, and for the chance to be bigger than the next guy and to
cut that son of a bitch down to size. David Mamet's stage play is a
searing morality tale about the dark side of the Capitalist system,
where the concept of that mythical "honest dollar" is
dismissed out of hand by people whose business it is to sell lies. The
more the customer resists, the harder you push. The less they want
your product, the more you force them to want it at any cost.
Mamet's play, set in the most miserable real estate office in the
world, won itself a Pulitzer Prize for its hard-bitten depiction of
morally bankrupt characters lying, cheating, and stabbing each other
in the back. More importantly, it won for Mamet's ingenious
reinvention of character dialogue. This is a writer whose plays,
spoken in a modern tongue, are harder to perform than Shakespeare.
Every stammer, every pause, every "ah", "oh", or
"umm" is carefully scripted to flow with a specific cadence
like a piece of music; actor improvisation is strictly forbidden. All
of Mamet's plays are about the failure of language to actually
communicate, the way a person can say one thing but mean another, or
speak volumes but say really nothing at all. Glengarry Glen Ross (even
its title is a cryptic puzzle) pushes that concept to its limit with
characters whose very livelihood is based on talking in circles. They
sell not a product but a dream, the false dream that a worthless piece
of marsh in Florida could be a lovely retirement property or the key
to financial success. They lie so well to everyone else that the
inevitable result is self-delusion, in which the salesmen convince
themselves that they can get ahead in the face of cutthroat
competition and impossibly punishing expectations.
The film
adaptation, capably directed by James Foley, captures every beat of
Mamet's writing perfectly. The dream cast he assembled is one of the
greatest power ensembles ever put to film. Al Pacino, Ed Harris, Alan
Arkin, Kevin Spacey, Jonathan Pryce and an improbably scene-stealing
performance from Alec Baldwin all in one movie! The film belongs,
however, to Jack Lemmon as the one-time top dog now trapped in a
losing streak that brings out a frightening desperation. It's one of
the actor's finest performances. 
This is, in my experience, the
type of movie that women hate. While I consider the film to be
wickedly entertaining and brilliant in ways I can barely put to words,
my wife despises it for reasons I have never fully understood.
"There's not a single female character," she says as though
that should be a mandatory requirement. Maybe I am reinforcing a
negative stereotype; I'm sure there must be women out there somewhere
who like the film, but I have yet to meet one. Men, on the other hand,
seem to instantly identify with it. It must be all the testosterone in
the dialogue. But man, that dialogue! Every line is a scorcher:
"I've been in this business 15 years."
"What's your name?"
"Fuck you, that's my name! You
know why, mister? Because you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight, I
drove an $80,000 BMW. That's my name... And your name is You're
wanting.' You can't play in the man's game? You can't close them? Then
go home and tell your wife your troubles. Because only one thing
counts in this life - Get them to sign on the line which is
dotted!"
Video: How Does The Disc Look?
Artisan Home Entertainment has seen fit to provide two different
video transfers in this DVD release. Disc One contains a 2.35:1
letterbox version with anamorphic enhancement spread over two layers,
while Disc Two has a 4:3 full-frame reformatted version. The movie was
shot in the Super35 process to facilitate both aspect ratios. The 4:3
edition has more picture at the top and bottom of the screen but less
on the sides; it is a boxier framing but is adequate to convey the
drama. However, the movie's theatrical widescreen composition was
conscientiously and artfully designed to increase the dynamic tension
within each shot, and is certainly the preferred way to watch the
film. I actually think that this is a case where I appreciate having
both versions available for comparison, even if I will rarely ever
watch the movie in full-frame. 
Artisan has had a spotty track
record with some of their DVD releases. The terrible video transfer on
their recent Reservoir Dogs remaster had me worried for this "10
Year Anniversary Special Edition" as well. Thankfully, they seem
to have gotten this one right. Glengarry Glen Ross looks very sharp
and has perfect black levels, quite good colors and no distracting
compression problems. I compared the letterboxed version to my older
Pioneer Special Edition laserdisc, which had an excellent transfer
itself. I was surprised to see how different the two looked, yet I
can't pin down which one is supposedly more accurate. The LD has a
more harshly contrasted image with paler flesh tones and a bluish hue
to the office interior; meanwhile other colors are often more
vibrantly saturated and eye-popping. This "steely" look does
feel appropriate for the stylized tone of the movie. The DVD, on the
other hand, is a little less contrasty and has a more subtle range of
colors. The office interior is more of a soft green and flesh tones
look more natural. Other colors are still vibrant when appropriate,
but not as garish.
I would say that the DVD has a smoother,
more film-like appearance and in direct comparison I probably prefer
it. If I were to pull the laserdisc off my shelf on its own, though,
I'm sure I'd be perfectly satisfied with its image as well. If one is
supposed to be more accurate than the other, I am unsure which is
which. They are both good in their own individual respects, and DVD-
only viewers will surely find the new disc pleasing.
Audio:
How Does The Disc Sound?
Both transfers of the movie
have been remastered into Dolby Digital 5.1. They also contain
additional Dolby Surround 2.0 tracks as well as a French dub (also in
Dolby 2.0). The widescreen version has a DTS track, as if there
weren't already enough good reasons to watch that one. How much does
the film benefit from the 5.1 remix? This isn't a movie with much
surround usage or deep bass (David Mamet is all about the dialogue),
but James Newton Howard's jazzy score is nicely resolved by the DTS
track. Switching back and forth between the two, I didn't detect much
of any difference between the Dolby Digital and DTS. I appreciate that
Artisan went to the trouble of creating a DTS track for the disc,
though it really didn't need one. Dialogue is always clear and
intelligible on both, and overall fidelity sounds decent considering
that the mix isn't terribly dynamic. It sounds as good as it needs to,
and that is all that matters.
English and Spanish subtitles are
available on both versions of the movie, as is English Closed
Captioning.
Supplements: What Goodies Are There?
Its DVD release having been long delayed, Artisan finally brings
Glengarry Glen Ross to the format as a modest special edition with a
few halfway decent bonus features to note. Let's start by discussing
what is not available. Completely missing are both of the feature-
length audio commentary tracks originally produced for the Pioneer
laserdisc, the first of which was from director James Foley and the
second (more significantly) from Jack Lemmon. Lemmon only made two
attempts at the commentary format prior to his death (the other is
found on the Mister Roberts DVD); the Glengarry track was a very
insightful discussion of not just this film but his entire career and
the acting process.
What do we get instead? Disc One
contains a selected-scenes audio commentary by James Foley. In
all, he talks for only about 25 minutes as the disc seamlessly jumps
to specific scenes that he wants to discuss. At the time Foley
recorded his original laserdisc commentary he was still something of a
hotshot young director, but these days he is pretty much a washed-up
hack and has little of interest to say as he rambles aimlessly through
the track.
Following this is a 30-minute video featurette
called Magic Time: A Tribute to Jack Lemmon that is not nearly
as interesting as it could or should have been. Lemmon's son Chris
(there is no doubting that family resemblance), actor Peter Gallagher
and a small handful of assorted others who worked with Lemmon over the
years reminisce about his life and career. It tries valiantly to
achieve poignancy, but feels perfunctory instead.
Disc Two
includes another 30-minute featurette: ABC - Always Be Closing.
Described as "an exploration of the facts and fictions behind
Glengarry Glen Ross", this one is composed of talking-head
interviews with real salesmen mixed with cast and crew trying to
validate the movie's depiction of that trade. Again, it sounds
fascinating and relevant in theory but is less so in execution; some
parts are more interesting than others. Both this and the Jack Lemmon
tribute are presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen and have a
contrasty, overly edge-enhanced appearance that is very hard on the
eyes.
J. Roy: New and Used Furniture is apparently a
very old 10-minute student film documentary of some sort. The scratchy
black & white footage seems to come from sometime in the late
60s or early 70s and chronicles the training of salesmen
for a flea market in a run-down town. The piece has a very melancholy
tone, but I'm not entirely certain that this thing is for real or what
its point is. Either this is a piece of found art for which someone
had been trying to find a good DVD home, or it's a big sham placed on
this disc as a joke.
Cinematographer Juan Ruiz Anchia, actors
Alec Baldwin and Alan Arkin, and production designer Jane Mursky
contribute about 20 minutes each of bonus audio commentary,
again with seamless branching that jumps around the movie. Since these
audio tracks are contained on Disc Two, they unfortunately play over
only the 4:3 version of the film. Anchia's talk is tedious and I found
myself straining to listen to the movie playing under it instead.
Arkin blathers for about 6 minutes on an unrelated topic before
remembering what he's there for, contributes about 5 minutes of useful
information, and then has several minutes of talk that is actually
repeated from his interview in one of the video featurettes. Better
are Alec Baldwin, who is eager to talk not only about his own scene in
the movie but about how much he admired everyone else in the cast, and
Mursky, who actually has some enlightening things to say about the
movie-making process, which makes her commentary the only supplement
on this DVD that can take that credit.
Two Clip
Archives are also available here. The first, from The Charlie Rose
Show, spends about 10 minutes with Jack Lemmon talking about this
movie. My favorite supplement of all, though, is the hilarious 2-
minute clip from Inside the Actors Studio with Kevin Spacey, as one
eager fan corners him into revisiting one of his character's scenes.
Finally, finishing off the disc are some typical cast & crew
bios and a few text pages of production notes.
DVD-ROM Exclusives: What do you get when you pop the disc in
your PC?
No ROM extras have been included.
Parting Thoughts
This great movie gets a pretty good
DVD premiere. The picture and sound are very nice indeed, although I
can't help feeling that none of the supplements are as interesting or
relevant as those found on the old laserdisc special edition. Still,
fans will appreciate the package that Artisan has put together.
Definitely recommended.