We’ve got a hot lead on a play at the Fringe

By John Lyle Belden

New local company Fat Turtle Theatre makes a bold debut with its production of “Glengarry Glen Ross,” the Pulitzer-winning drama by David Mamet, directed by company co-founder Aaron Cleveland.

For those unfamiliar, the play is about real estate salesmen in a high-pressure Chicago office in the early 1980s. For those who have seen the 1992 film, note that Blake (a/k/a “F— You,” played by Alec Baldwin) was a part written for the movie, and does not appear in the play. One can presume, prior to the opening scene, that Blake already made his famous speech that the bosses have declared a sales contest with a Cadillac as first prize, and third place means you’re fired. The best sales leads are going to the best salesmen, and office manager Williamson (played here by Ryan Reddick) is in charge of doling them out.

The play opens with Williamson being berated and cajoled by past top-seller Shelly “the Machine” Levene (Doug Powers), who feels he deserves the top Glengarry leads. We next meet frustrated fellow salesmen Dave Moss (Luke McConnell) and George Aaronow (Jeff Maess), who consider more drastic measures to get ahead. Finally, we see top seller Richard Roma (Tristan Ross), working up to a sale with his latest mark, timid James Lingk (Rex Riddle).

The second act begins with the office having suffered a burglary, investigated by Detective Baylen (Jason Page). As the whole ensemble flows in and out of the room, the drama intensifies and we learn a lot more than who wins the new car.

Speaking of hot leads, these roles are among the most coveted among male actors when this play revives on Broadway, and Fat Turtle has found a worthy cast for the Indy boards. Powers gives his all in the most high-profile role, taking Shelly to every emotional extreme while staying believable and relatable.

Ross makes good use of his talent for Shakespearean patter to deliver Roma’s pseudo-philosophical soliloquies that he uses to lull prospective buyers into being receptive to his pitch. We can easily buy that this is the best man at selling patches of dirt to insecure souls with money.

Maess embodies the not-getting-any-younger quiet desperation of Aaronow, while McConnell expresses the more desperate and impulsive urge to get ahead at any cost.

Riddle does mouse-y well, and we can’t help but feel for him. Page’s performance just gets stronger as his character gets increasingly frustrated with the room full of patience-testing egos. Reddick’s Williamson is just an unapologetic a-hole, well played without compromise, and we have to respect him for that.

There’s a chuckle to be had here and there, and the marvelous absurdity of what grown men are willing to say to each other under stress – or just to keep a sucker in the sale. And, of course, be prepared for lots of salty language. This is drama at its best, a half-dozen men sweating out what could be one of the best or, more likely, worst days of their miserable lives. You owe it to yourself to close the sale on some tickets for this show before it closes on Oct. 15.

Performances are at the IndyFringe Theatre, 719 E. St. Clair St., just east of the College, Mass Ave., St. Clair intersection. Visit www.IndyFringe.org for tickets.

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