When I first heard about the gender-swapped production of Glengarry Glen Ross, I was intrigued. David Mamet’s razor-sharp portrayal of cutthroat capitalism and toxic masculinity is a masterpiece, but flipping the genders? That’s a bold move. Personally, I think it’s a concept ripe with potential—but does it land? Not quite. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the production tries to navigate the tension between Mamet’s original intent and the modern lens of gender dynamics. Yet, it often feels like the cast is performing at the audience rather than drawing them into the raw, brutal world of the play.
One thing that immediately stands out is the wardrobe choices. Trouser suits, skirts, heels—it’s a deliberate mix that screams, ‘We’re women playing men.’ But here’s the thing: it creates a distance. Instead of immersing us in the characters’ desperation, it feels like we’re watching a costume party. From my perspective, this undermines the very essence of Mamet’s work, which thrives on the authenticity of its characters’ flaws and vulnerabilities. The intimacy of the in-the-round staging should bring us closer, but instead, it highlights the artifice.
Take Levene, for example. Indira Varma’s portrayal is energetic, no doubt, but it lacks the tragic depth Jack Lemmon brought to the role in the 1992 film. Lemmon’s Levene was a man crumbling under the weight of his own failures, a modern-day Willy Loman. Varma’s version? More of a caricature, a caffeine-fueled rant machine. What many people don’t realize is that Mamet’s characters are meant to be both repellent and pitiable. Here, the focus seems to be on ridiculing masculinity rather than exploring its complexities.
Rosa Salazar’s Roma, on the other hand, is a highlight. Her smooth, calculated performance captures the character’s predatory charm without feeling like a parody. If you take a step back and think about it, Roma is the one character who doesn’t demand empathy—and that’s precisely why the gender swap works for her. She’s a shark in a suit, and Salazar nails it. But this raises a deeper question: Why doesn’t the rest of the cast achieve the same balance?
The production’s decision not to contemporize the corporate world is interesting. Shows like Industry have already proven that women can be just as ruthless in high-stakes environments. So why not lean into that? Why have these women perform masculinity instead of embodying Mamet’s capitalists as women? A detail that I find especially interesting is the era in which this play is set—the 1980s, a time when women like Margaret Thatcher were breaking into male-dominated spaces. What this really suggests is that the production missed an opportunity to explore how women navigate power structures without mimicking men.
Capitalism and patriarchy are the twin engines driving Mamet’s characters into desperation, but this production doesn’t fully capture that. The focus on exaggerated masculinity overshadows the systemic forces grinding these characters down. In my opinion, the gender reversal here feels more like a gimmick than a statement. As outgoing artistic director Matthew Warchus notes, gender-swapped productions can serve various purposes—parity, politics, or sheer experimentation. But here, the purpose feels unresolved.
If you ask me, the real tragedy isn’t just the characters’ failures but the production’s inability to close the deal. Mamet’s dialogue is still whip-smart, but the energy is relentless, the tone flattened. It’s like watching a fireworks display where every explosion is the same color. What makes Glengarry Glen Ross timeless is its unflinching look at human greed and vulnerability. This version? It’s all surface, no soul.
As I reflect on it, I can’t help but wonder: What if the production had leaned into the female experience of capitalism instead of mimicking the male one? What if it had explored how women navigate a rigged system without aping the men who built it? That, to me, would have been revolutionary. Instead, we’re left with a production that’s more Bugsy Malone than Mamet—all style, little substance.
In the end, this gender-swapped Glengarry Glen Ross is a missed opportunity. It’s not a failure of talent—the cast is clearly capable—but of vision. Mamet’s play is a mirror held up to society, but this production feels like it’s looking in the wrong direction. Personally, I think it’s a reminder that not every experiment works, but the attempt itself is worth applauding. After all, theater is at its best when it dares to ask questions, even if it doesn’t always find the answers.
