West End Glengarry Glen Ross Star Stanley Townsend on Working with Christian Slater & the Surprise Contents of His Stage Briefcase

Stanley Townsend is the distinguished Irish actor whose credits include Conor McPherson’s Shining City and The Weir, but he’s been on a bit of an American jag of late, moving from the Minnesota-set Girl from the North Country to his current gig as Shelley “the machine” Levene in Glengarry Glen Ross—the contemporary classic about real estate salesmen at their most rapacious. His co-star in the David Mamet revival at the Playhouse Theatre is an actual American, Christian Slater, so nationality was among the topics when Townsend joined Broadway.com for an engaging chat.  

How well did you know David Mamet’s Pulitzer Prize-winning play before accepting this role?
I was familiar with the film [from 1992], not so familiar with the play, and I thought Jack Lemmon [the screen Shelley] was just extraordinary in it—a really brilliant performance.

Has it been difficult to put Lemmon’s performance to one side?
I’m a guy in my 50s whereas Jack was older and that’s a real difference. So, as I play Shelley, I’m looking toward a possible working future for myself even though I’m in a tough spot. It feels to me as if Shelley has 10 years of working life left in him, so there’s a forward-looking arc. He’s got a working future in this world of buying and selling.

Are you enjoying the very specific rhythms of Mamet’s writing?
It’s fantastic. If acting were a sport, I think playing David Mamet would be white-water rafting! You do ride the rapids with him and it’s intense: exhilarating, exciting, terrifying—all those things.

What do you make of the structure of the play: a short series of duologues to start with followed after the intermission by office chaos, with the male ensemble all together on stage?
Just from a work point of view, you’re quite still in the first half. I’m in the opening scene with Kris Marshall, who’s playing Williamson, in a restaurant booth where even a lean back away or a lean forward is a big move. Then you enter the second half, where we’re in the office, and we all have our desks and the world that has been talked about in the first half is where we find ourselves in the second.

How do you approach playing someone nicknamed “the machine”?
The thing is that the men in this play are salesmen, not humanitarians; they are embarked in the act of sale. So, I think Shelley sees himself essentially as a working man who adheres to a code of practice, but the price of the practice is the ability these men have to bamboozle and manipulate people into buying stuff they probably shouldn’t.

Doesn’t Mamet against expectation find a sort of nobility in these characters?
I don’t know that Shelley would regard himself in any way as noble but you’re right in that he is very definitely a bon viveur: the minute he gets the sale, he says, “Who wants to go to lunch? I’m buying.” When Shelley is on the crest of a wave, everyone eats, everyone has a good time; he lives high on the hog and believes he’ll sell again.

Are there any stage props that are helpful to your performance?
In fact, they’ve done a fantastic briefcase for me with a little electric shaver and my Pepto-Bismol, and a cassette of Frank Sinatra classics for the car, of course. These are little details that are probably never seen by an audience, but the briefcase will be open and I will see it. 

What’s it been like working with Christian Slater, who plays Ricky Roma—Al Pacino’s screen role?
What can you say about Christian Slater except that he’s a proper bloke and that he is starting to feel like the center of the play? He’s a proper theatrical beast, he really is: he’s got the chops for it and the smarts and the charisma. He hangs out with everyone, works hard and has a great sense of humor. 

Do you find any parallels with the world of the play in your own life?
The main wellspring for me is parallel to my own act of sale as a player, by which I mean an actor for sale, which is what we are in this profession. I suppose the main difference is that as an actor, you are selling yourself; there’s nothing to look at—no brochure or plot of land. But it is an act of sale, and any actor does a lot of those.

Was it helpful having just inhabited the Minnesota landscape of Girl from the North Country at the Old Vic when it came to the Chicago setting here?
Well, Shelley would, of course, have still been in diapers when Girl from the North Country was happening, since that was 1930s Depression-era America. But it is nice to have that connection and to feel that while I was onstage at the Old Vic, there was Shelley at two or three years of age.

How do you feel about missing out on the West End transfer of Girl, which opens January 11, while you are still in Glengarry?
I’d already accepted this before the transfer came on the map, so I’ll be hopping the tube and going up to see [the Girl cast] for food. That was a magical time in my working life, and I will miss the singing and the dancing and [Conor] McPherson and [Bob] Dylan, but on the other hand, hey, now I’ll actually get to see the show!

Are you pleased as a Dubliner that you have got to play so many Americans, including in the West End in Guys and Dolls?
I guess if you do a thing and you do it well, then people know you’re able to do it. As an actor, one is essentially reactive so that things happen to you, but to go from Conor’s Minnesota to David Mamet’s Chicago has been a beautiful coincidence; it’s been a great year.