Main Cast: Joanne Woodward, John Malkovich, Karen Allen, James Naughton
Release Year: 1987
Country: US
Run Time: 134 minutes
MPAA Rating: PG
Plot
Paul Newman directed this moving adaptation of Tennessee Williams' classic play The Glass Menagerie. Joanne Woodward stars as aging Southern belle Amanda Wingfield, whose domineering parenting has driven her shy, timid daughter Laura (Karen Allen) inward and has made her adventure-hungry son Tom (John Malkovich) miserable. Newman hasn't tried to open the original stage play up at all, preferring to keep all of the action within the Wingfield apartment. The cast performed the play in a Broadway revival prior to the filming. James Naughton appears as Laura's gentleman caller. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Movie Guide
Review
There have been a number of versions of The Glass Menagerie over the years, but perhaps none as sad or with such a feeling of hopelessness as Paul Newman's in the late '80s. Although breaking no real new ground in what is basically a filmed play, his crowded apartment setting nevertheless lends a freshly claustrophobic aura to the dynamics of the interactions between the characters, as each actor finds a new depth to the individual emotions that they convey. John Malkovich, a particular standout, is angrier than previous Toms, not merely pining for adventure, but, more than anything, just wanting out of a suffocating home that seems held together by little more than guilt and familial obligation. Joanne Woodward is a particularly crazy Amanda, constantly testing the patience of her long-suffering children. Karen Allen, in perhaps the best, albeit understated, performance of her career, might be the most fragile Laura ever -- surpassing even her delicate glass figurines. Pretty and sweet, she is also so painfully shy and withdrawn that she has become resigned to a loveless life. Amid such strong characters, James Naughton as the gentleman caller, though also quite good, sometimes seems a bit lost in the shuffle, especially when compared to Kirk Douglas' memorable portrayal in the 1950 version. Newman's Glass Menagerie, however, seems more about Tom and his dilemma anyway. The director provides no answers and passes no judgment; indeed, he seems to have conflicting feelings about Tom, admiring his risk-taking spirit, yet somewhat disappointed in his ultimate actions. Although Tom loves his sister and cares about his family -- even his mother -- the young man's growing bitterness at the unfairness of his less-than-fulfilling existence threatens to boil over within him. Tom finally escapes, of course, but, even then, he seems almost surprised at his inability to enjoy his new life. Malkovich does an excellent job in portraying a complex character whose anger and frustrations have not been sated by fulfilling his dreams. Instead, it's merely been replaced by a renewed sense of guilt at hurting an innocent, abandoning the only life he had ever known, and replacing it with one that, in the end, he realizes might be worse. There are no easy answers here, and nothing is as black-and-white as it might once have seemed. ~ Steve Jones, All Movie Guide
John Kasarda - Art Director, Joseph M. Caracciolo, Jr. - Associate Producer, Tony Walton - Costume Designer, Merrily Murray Walsh - Costume Designer, Burtt Harris - First Assistant Director, Paul Newman - Director, David Ray - Editor, Henry Mancini - Composer (Music Score), John Kasarda - Production Designer, Tony Walton - Production Designer, Michael Ballhaus - Cinematographer, Burtt Harris - Producer, Joseph M. Caracciolo, Jr. - Producer, Susan Bode-Tyson - Set Designer, Tennessee Williams - Play Author
Introduced by Tom Wingfield as a memory play, it is based on his recollection of his disillusioned and delusional mother Amanda and his shy, crippled sister Laura. Amanda's husband abandoned the family long ago, and her memory of her days as a genteel Southern belle surrounded by devoted beaux may be more romanticized than real. Tom is an aspiring writer who works in a warehouse to support his family, and the banality and boredom of everyday life leads him to spend most of his spare time watching movies in local cinemas at all hours of the night. Amanda is obsessed with finding a proper "gentleman caller" for Laura, who spends most of her time with her collection of glass animal figurines. To appease his mother, Tom eventually brings Jim O'Connor home for dinner, but complications arise when Laura realizes he is the man she loved in high school and has thought of ever since. He dashes her hopes of a future together when he announces he is engaged. Infuriated, Amanda lashes out at her son for raising his sister's hopes and Tom leaves, never to return to his family.
Janet Maslin of the New York Times called the film "a serious and respectful adaptation, but never an incendiary one, perhaps because the odds against its capturing the play's real genius are simply too great. In any case, this Glass Menagerie catches more of the drama's closeness and narrowness than its fire . . . [It] starts out stiffly and gets better as it goes along . . . But quiet reverence is its prevailing tone, and in the end that seems thoroughly at odds with anything Williams ever intended." [1]
Desson Howe of the Washington Post observed, "Acting is definitely the trouble in Menagerie. There's an awful lot of it here. And there are many words - fine words by Tennessee Williams. But before that no-nonsense lens, and as emoted by Malkovich and Woodward, they seem time-consuming, inflated, dated and theatrical. The film's few good moments happen when mouths are firmly shut. Which is why Karen Allen, one of the screen's great underrated actresses, comes off best. As frail and softspoken daughter Laura, awaiting gentleman callers who never come, she's the best film performer here . . . Woodward, she with the longest resume, is the disappointment. Apparently understating, she speaks in a low, squeaky tone - a kind of laryngitic falsetto. It's so irritating it makes her moments of hysteria a relief. She is also at her best when wordless . . . Malkovich, as the pivotal Tom, is certainly watchable . . . But as the son bearing his mother's pushiness and the brother tethered to his sister's social infirmity, his actions are obvious and broad. They smell of the stage. Which seems to have been director Newman's intention. But by filming this play in straightforward manner . . . Newman emphasizes the artificiality of theater and distances you from the play." [3]
Variety called it "a reverent record" of the Williams play "one watches with a kind of distant dreaminess rather than an intense emotional involvement" and cited the "brilliant performances . . . well defined by Newman's direction." [4]
