I first arrived in Chicago in 1999 aiming for a theatre career. I arrived just as David Mamet, one of the bright lights in the theatre firmament at the time, was spreading his wings and moving on from the city that birthed the characters in his plays. Here’s the thing, I was never that big a fan of his work.
I saw the genius in it, but in the viewing it was always as predictable as it was entertaining. In later years after Mamet had found success in film I actually came to believe that his work for the big screen was actually better than it ever was on a stage. As an example, I enjoy the film version of Glengarry Glenn Ross more than I ever have on stage and I attended the Amrerican premiere of that play at The Gooodman Theatre back in 1984. The Spainish Prisoner and State and Main are delights that I always enjoy revisting.
To be fair, I’m in a minority among my professional peers. There’s no denying Mamet’s influence in the theatre and film. Personally, I was more a fan of Sam Shepard’s work. The two ran neck and neck in popularity in my early days in the theatre. But that’s not what this is about.
Somewhere along the way, Mamet became even more of an enigma when he opened up about his political views, which in some ways spun in counter orbit to the milieu of much of what his plays seemed to profess. His plays had a power dynamic that while not completely in sync with the “eat the rich” vein, both celebrated and condemned the powerful, alongside empathy with the downtrodden or less capable.
He was always a gadfly who reveled in that reputation. But there’s reveling, and then there’s reveling. At times it seemed as if he aspired to assume a Bertolt Brecht-like influence. I’m referrring more about his views on theatre, than his political views. Check out his book True and False, or the videos and articles you can find all over the Internet.
No matter what you thought of his work on the stage or in the cinema, once he began commenting about politcal and social issues he became, I dare say, more entertaining than any piece of dramatic literature he created.
In a recent podcast with Sam Fragoso, Mamet revealed that part of the reason for his seemingly 180 degree turn in professing his political beliefs was because those in the media and literary circles that had always promoted him turned away from his work. No criticism stings more than being ignored. I’m not sure what’s the chicken or what’s the egg in that discussion, but it was a statement that did leave quite a bit of egg on his face. He later got fed up with Fragaoso and walked off the podcast.
Continuing to stay in the entertainment news this week, Mamet authored an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal called Sorry, Billionaires — There’s No Escape, essentially saying we’e all doomed regardless of how we’re measured on the wealth scale in life. Biilionaires who think they’ve built doomsday hide-aways will be undone by the laborers they hire to keep the places running. Of course those less privileged don’t even matter in the equation. It’s a reguritation of the history of the world that Brecht and Sondheim did better.
The thing of it is, for many Mamet was always as entertaining as he was enigmatic . I find him more so in these later chapters of his story, even with its odd and often confusing mix of woke hurt feelings bouncing up against his conservative bent.
But then, as Mamet, contradicting his maxim about truth says, “it’s not a lie. It’s a gift for fiction.”
You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.
Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3 