Glengarry Dogs

Shelley tries to persuade Williamson, while Mr. White and Mr. Pink have troubles of their own.

Time for the smackdown of the century (well, the late 20th century, anyway): 1992 Guy-movie titans Glengarry Glen Ross vs. Reservoir Dogs.

Back in 1992 I jokingly referred to Reservoir Dogs as Glengarry Glen Ross with guns, but now that I examine both films, I was closer to the mark than I suspected.

1. Both films are about “a bunch of guys” who are involved in a not-quite-legal enterprise.  One group sells Florida swampland to rubes, the other robs a jewelry store.

2. Both films deal with “manly” issues of responsibility, trust, betrayal, identity and “work” as a defining trait.

3. Both films revolve around a criminal act we never see happen.  One has an office robbery, the other has the jewelry-store robbery.

4. Both films deftly shift points-of-view to keep up the supense of “whodunit.”  In Glengarry it’s “who robbed the office,” in Dogs it’s “who’s the cop?”

5. Both films refuse the audience the pleasure of a protagonist, a hero, or even a “central character.”

6. Both film have a central location where the climax of the narrative takes place, which makes the movie feel like a filmed play.  Glengarry has the real-estate office, Dogs has the mortuary warehouse.

Now then.  One would say that Dogs is not structured the same way as Glengarry, but look at what Tarantino has done.

Here is the narrative of Reservoir Dogs laid out in chronological order (spoiler alert):

1. Joe Cabot wants to rob a jewelry store.
2. He gets his gang of men together.  We meet them one by one.
3. The Cops find out about the robbery and plan to stop Joe and his gang.
4. The Cops get Tim Roth to go undercover.
5. Tim Roth practices his “story” that will get him credibility with the gang.
6. He tries it out: it works!
7. Tim Roth hangs out with the gang before the job.
8. The morning of the job, the gang goes to a coffee shop.  Here, they discuss Madonna and how much to tip a waitress.
9. The job happens.  Something goes wrong.  We don’t see what.
10. Afterthe job, everyone high-tails it back to the rendevous point
11. Everybody sooner or later makes it back to the rendevous point and hilarity ensues.

Everything after this is one full hour of the movie.  The rest of it is backstory.

Tarantino could have put the movie together this way, but look what happens.  You know who the mole is from the very beginning, there’s no mystery as to “what happened at the jewelry store,” and only mild suspense for about ten minutes where Tim Roth is hanging out with the gang and they don’t know he’s a cop.  And then he would have gotten to the rendevous point, at which point he’s got an hour of movie left and one location to shoot it in.

Which, strangely, is exactly what happens in Glengarry Glen Ross.  There is the first forty-five minutes of the movie, which chops up, expands upon, and moves around the first act of the play very nicely, and then there is the last 50 minutes of the movie, where we’re stuck in that real-estate office and might as well be watching a play.  A Pulitzer-Prize-winning play, but a play nonetheless.

Just think of the movie we could have had, oh so very easily, if Mamet had Tarantino-ized his script (again, spoiler alert).  What if Glengarry began with Jack Lemmon walking out ot the Nyborg’s house, having just closed his deal with them, getting in his car and heading over to the office, only to find that the place had been broken into.

Then, we could have cut to Al Pacino hustling Jonathan Pryce the evening before, stopping to wink at Ed Harris, who’s in the middle of a conversation with Alan Arkin.  Then we could cut to Kevin Spacey having a conversation with Alec Baldwin while they’re waiting for the guys to show up for the sales conference.  Then we could cut back to the next day, and there’s Kevin again having to deal with the police and Mitch and Murray because the place has been ripped off.  Then we could cut to Jack Lemmon, the night before, trying to get his daughter on the phone at the hospital.  Then we could go back to the big scene with Alec Baldwin doing his great speech, then back to Al hustling Jonathan, and so on.

It would have been a little “artier,” but jeez, the thing is already based on a play, how much artier could a movie be in 1992?  It would have made it all the way to being a “real movie,” instead of half of one.

Glengarry Glen Ross is one of the great American plays of the 20th century and my second-favorite play ever written (#1 would be Endgame).  But I’m afraid that in this contest, Tarantino and his time-shuffling gimmick takes the screenplay prize.