The merde hits the fan twice as Mamet goes Québécois
The expression “pardon my French” has suddenly acquired an extra layer of meaning, what with the work of the world’s sweariest playwright, David Mamet, currently playing on two francophone stages. His 1983 Pulitzer winner Glengarry Glen Ross ( last seen in its original English at the Segal) is about to go into its final week at Théâtre du Rideau Vert, while over at Théâtre Duceppe, his bracingly provocative 2009 play Race has just opened.
I haven’t yet seen Race, but I can report that Glengarry Glen Ross is a ferociously entertaining 90 minutes that, under Frédéric Blanchette’s direction, even manages to eclipse memories of the celebrated Pacino movie version.
In it, four real estate salesmen go into a frenzy of mutual backstabbing when the office sets up a competition — a cull by any other name. ( First prize: $ 6,000 and a Cadillac. Second prize: A set of steak knives. Third prize: You’re fired.) Blanchette and fellow translator- adapter Denis Bouchard transmute Mamet’s glittering, rapid- fire profanities into rasping, no- holds- barred Québécois, which has the audience gasping in shock and roaring with delight.
Blanchette is an avowed Mamet enthusiast. The first play he directed, back in 2001, was Mamet’s The Old Neighborhood, and on the morning I caught up with him, he was due to teach an acting class in which he draws on techniques developed by Mamet and Mamet’s long- term collaborator, William H. Macy.
“You can’t be focused on what’s going on inside of you,” says Blanchette of the demanding immediacy of the Mamet acting style. “You have to be focused on the other character or else you’re always one step behind.”
Though admiring of Mamet’s directing skills — he caught the Broadway premiere of Race, which Mamet directed — Blanchette is aware of the dangers of being too slavish an adherent.
“When he puts his method to the max, it produces a weird kind of acting, which is very laid- back, almost deadpan,” he says. “Sometimes, it’s a bit too much. I kind of like it, but I don’t know if I just like it on an intellectual level.”
In this production of Glengarry Glen Ross, Denis Bouchard, playing over- the- hill salesman Shelly ( the Machine) Levene, hobbles around with a walking stick. Given that Mamet’s script doesn’t stipulate this, you might be forgiven for thinking it’s a nifty directorial flourish from Blanchette. Turns out, though, that before the show opened, Bouchard took the advice of wellwishers all too literally and broke a leg on a patch of ice.
This fortuitously gives his washed- up character even more of a sense of vulnerability, kind of like a wounded seal pup in a shark pool.
“These are not nice guys,” says Blanchette. “Mamet shows their greed and their desire to just exterminate the guys who sit next to them, how they pretend to be friends so they can better crush them. It’s like a metaphor for the way the system was in the ’ 80s. And now it’s even worse. Every salesman in that office is confronted by that idea, which is very cruel.”
Ironically, one person who might not agree with the play’s indictment of untrammeled capitalism is Mamet himself, whose politics have since taken a sharp turn to the right ( as announced by his 2008 essay, Why I Am No Longer a ‘ Brain- Dead Liberal’).
Race falls within this postDamascene period, and critics are divided over whether it’s part of what’s generally seen as a serious waning of Mamet’s playwriting powers. However, on paper at least, Race is a gripping, enjoyably cynical and certainly bold incursion into the vexed question of race relations in America.
Actor Frédéric Pierre agrees with this upbeat assessment of the play. He’s playing black lawyer Henry Brown who, with his white partner, must decide whether to take on a case in which a rich, white man has been accused of raping a black woman in a hotel ( surprisingly, Mamet wrote Race just before the DSK case broke). There’s also black intern, Susan, who, as well as learning the ropes, may or may not be pulling the strings.
Pierre reckons Race is bound to stir things up.
“Mamet doesn’t provide a conclusive ending to the story,” he says, “He wants people to have their own perception about what they’ve just seen, not just about race but also gender and social class. So, of course, at the end of this show, people will have huge debates.”
Certainly, it’s coming to Montreal at a time when the debates around race, and particularly
around diversity in the media, are at boiling point.
“I’m absolutely proud that Duceppe is bringing a show like this where two black actors are needed,” Pierre says. “But the next step would be to have any colour, any ethnicity playing different parts, not just in contemporary plays, but in classical plays as well. In fact, last year I played in Molière’s Le Misanthrope. After the whole blackface thing, there’s still a lot of work to do.”
Glengarry Glen Ross is at Théâtre du Rideau Vert, 4664 St Denis St, to Feb 27. Tickets $ 48.50, 65 plus: $ 43.75, 30 and under: $ 34. Call 514- 844- 1793 or visit rideauvert. qc. ca
Race is at Théâtre Duceppe, 175 St Catherine St. West, to March 26. Tickets $ 58, 65 plus: $ 53,
18- 20 yrs old: $ 35, 12- 17 yrs old: $ 25. Call 514- 288- 5034 or visit Duceppe. com
In the original English versions of both those Mamet plays, one particular word is used for maximum shock value. In The Vagina Monologues, playwright Eve Ensler famously rescued that word from its usual connotations of fear and loathing, and used it in a celebratory way. To mark V- Day ( inaugurated by Ensler to combat violence against women), students at Marianopolis College are presenting The Vagina Monologues Saturday, Feb. 27, 2 p. m., at St. James Anglican Diocese, 1439 Ste- Catherine St. W. Tickets are $ 10. For more information, visit vspot. vday. org