Fans Discover an Inconvenient Truth About ‘Glengarry Glen Ross'

Wall Street Journal

04-04-2025

Nick Van Sistine, a 37-year-old salesman from Driftwood, Texas, speaks a common language with anyone in his line of work. They all quote the same 'Glengarry Glen Ross' scene. 'It's scripture,' he said.
In the 1992 movie, an ace salesman tears into a group of demoralized real-estate pushers with insults and credos intended to motivate.
'A-B-C…always be closing.'
'Get them to sign on the line which is dotted.'
'The leads are weak?… You're weak!'
So when Van Sistine visited New York last month to meet with clients, he was pumped to catch a live rendition of 'Glengarry' on Broadway and hear those famous lines.
'I was on the edge of my seat,' Van Sistine said later, 'waiting for that character to come out and give us the monologue, the gospel.'
He never appeared.
Fans of 'Glengarry Glen Ross' the movie are finding out that their favorite part isn't part of 'Glengarry Glen Ross' the play and never was. Writer David Mamet invented the scene for the screen adaptation of his 1983 Pulitzer Prize-winning stage drama. By adding an alpha male played by Alec Baldwin, Mamet amped up the story's cinematic intensity—but inadvertently let down some future fans who are now expecting that guy to play the hits.
The new revival, which officially opened this week at the Palace Theatre off Times Square, stars Bill Burr, Kieran Culkin, Michael McKean and Bob Odenkirk. It's one of the top-selling shows, and another example of how screen stars (now including George Clooney in 'Good Night, and Good Luck,' and Denzel Washington and Jake Gyllenhaal in 'Othello') can draw theater crowds.
It's a fictional movie star that has certain people excited for 'Glengarry.' The film's credits give his name as Blake, but Baldwin's character doesn't offer it in the scene. ('F—you, that's my name.') He's been summoned 'from downtown' to whip a Chicago sales office into moving more Florida housing plots.
His targets, played by Alan Arkin, Ed Harris and Jack Lemmon, get abused for seven minutes. He invokes brass balls and his watch that costs more than their cars. Everything hinges on their ability to seal deals, even office coffee— 'Put that coffee down! Coffee's for closers only.' Whoever sells the most units wins a Cadillac. The runner-up: a set of steak knives. 'Third prize is you're fired.'
The film sputtered at the box office in 1992 but clinched a fervent following over time, thanks in large part to the quotability of the always-be-closing speech. It became pop-culture code for cutthroat scenarios in any workplace. Baldwin reprised the bit in a 'Saturday Night Live' sketch set in Santa's workshop— 'Put that cocoa down!' —and the animated movie 'Boss Baby'—'Cookies are for closers.'
Before a recent Broadway preview performance, Lia Taylor of Waterloo, Ontario, overheard a fellow audience member talking about differences between the movie and play. That was news to Taylor, yet she held out some hope that the new version had been retrofitted to include the reason people other than theater buffs know 'Glengarry.'
After the cast took their bows, Taylor had glowing reviews for the actors and the production, but felt the play itself hadn't quite closed the deal.
'It's like going to see the Eagles and they don't play 'Hotel California,'' she said.
The play is a lean two acts, which take place before and after a robbery of the sales office. Inserting Blake would require a major overhaul of its decorated script. Mamet, known for his characters' rapid-fire dialogue, declined an interview request, staying mum on the question of whether he'd ever considered remaking his classic play to integrate his famous movie scene.
The producers of the new show, who also declined to comment, made an offstage nod to the movie. Merchandise at the theater includes red mugs emblazoned with 'coffee is for closers.' They go for $25 apiece and sold out during a preview performance last week. Bartenders serve drinks in lidded to-go style coffee cups.
The new play is a destination for people on business outings. At the show last week, the audience was peppered with clusters of men, many wearing puffer vests with company logos. At intermission, men's restroom lines were longer than the women's.
Matt Snow, a 46-year-old sales engineering director from Mount Vernon, Ohio, sought out 'Glengarry' the movie when he got into the field in his 30s. He needed context for the references people were using to mock each other or complain about stale leads and deadbeat customers.
Ahead of a sales meeting in New York, Snow found himself in a predawn group text with colleagues, led by Van Sistine, about snagging tickets for the first preview performance that night, no matter the cost—which turned out to be $600 apiece from the resale market.
Before that, Snow didn't know the movie was based on a play. By intermission, his crew of three was wondering where Blake was. But they rolled with the 'new' version, drawing looks when they laughed hard at lines that felt like inside jokes for salespeople in the audience.
Afterward Snow joked about getting a different show than he'd paid for. 'It's a travesty!' he said. 'They were selling coffee mugs for chrissakes.' He bought three for his sales team.
Van Sistine, the Texas salesman, said there was an extra aura around the film adaptation because his father, a career salesman, had shown him the movie as an initiation when his son followed him into the profession from college.
The speech Mamet wrote for the film conjures 'the adrenaline rush we go out and chase every single day,' he said.
Minus that scene, the play seemed more 'cerebral,' Van Sistine added, but he still loved it. Besides he can always hear his favorite movie lines as an internal monologue when he psychs himself up to sell.
'In my head,' he said, 'I'm regularly like, 'Second place is steak knives. Second place is steak knives.''
Write to John Jurgensen at [e-mail]