The Glass Menagerie

Critiqued by Holly Bartges

It’s wondrous when a theatre wraps itself in a theatre classic taking newness over the top, which is exactly what Paragon Theatre does with Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie.

Barbra Stricker in Paragon Theatre's Glass Menagerie.Photo by Erin Tyler / E Tyler Photography

It absolutely doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen this production, or if you’ve ever seen it, Paragon’s production should not be missed. Period,

Directed by Warren Sherrill, this production carries you into a different world of memories, of what might be, could be, memories exploded, exaggerated, won’t be, can’t be, memories muddled, muddled memories more real than the very day remembered. The distinction between what is real and what is fantasy, dances in intricate swirls imbedded in Williams’ magnificent words.

If you close your eyes, right there in the middle of the theatre, what seems real is that Michael Stricker as Narrator Tom Wingfield actually sits in your living room, relaxed with a glass of wine in hand, telling a story just for you. No, this isn’t Stricker telling the story. It’s Tom. He just happens to look like Stricker. He’s not on stage. He’s not acting. He’s remembering an agonizing time living at home with his mother, Amanda, and sister, Laura.

Publicity generally describes The Glass Menagerie as a story about Laura and her awesome collection of tiny glass animals, her favorite, a unicorn. The menagerie makes her happy, just about the only element that does, consequently the only thing that seems real to her. His story definitely surrounds Laura and Amanda. However, if you look deep and listen intently, the story probably affects Tom the most. Laura and Amanda are lost in their own worlds, worlds that touch each other and then ride the waves on their own course. Tom in your living room lost in his memory describes the events so delicately that in your mind’s eye you see Laura and Amanda. So magnificently does he bring them to life, you see Laura engulfing Barbara Andrews and Amanda enveloping Martha Harmon Pardee out of the shadows of your imagination.

Jen Orf’s ingenious lighting design becomes your lighting, so precise, so delicate, sometimes in shadows, sometimes with bright spots, sometimes haunting, sometimes jolting, reflecting Tom’s memories.

The Glass Menagerie gently and quietly reminds us the affect parents have on their children, how they mold them, shape them, convince them to believe un-truths.

Amanda lives in a world of make believe vividly remembering having 17 gentlemen callers buzzing around her as bees bow to the their queen. Pardee transforms into Amanda with a glassy eyed far away look. She refuses to see Laura for who she is. Neither does she see Tom for who he is. She sees what she wants to see, believes what she wants to believe. With 17 callers buzzing around her, she chose a man who one day walled away and never returned. The more she fusses with Laura, continually reminding her how pretty and perfect she thinks she was, Laura disappears further into herself. Crippled as Laura is, she could indeed be beautiful. Andrews shows the loneliness, fear, and anxiety hiding her beauty as a cataract shadows the eye. Amanda doesn’t see the sensitive, creative man Tom is. She doesn’t see him at all except as a means to an end. Certainly he has a friend to introduce to Laura. Certainly he can create a swarm of bees to clamor over his sister. That really isn’t what Amanda wants, although she attempts to powerfully instill the thought. She couldn’t stand the competition. She desperately wants to convince herself that once in her life she was important, that she was desired, that she was stunningly beautiful, squishing her entire life into one moment in time. Real or fantasy? Wishful thinking or dates marked on the calendar?

Martha Harmon Pardee and Michael Stricker in Paragon Theatre's Glass Menagerie. Photo by Erin Tyler / E Tyler Photography

Well, there’s one, Jim O’Conner brought vibrantly to life by Josh Hartwell. He went to high school with Tom and Laura. Although she believes she’s dumb, Laura has a bright mind that doesn’t get exercised because Amanda creates scenarios for Laura she doesn’t believe she can live up to. Andrews' depiction of Laura makes her so pathetic, you want to reach out, grab her, hug her, shake her, and tell her she’s bright, beautiful, and she can do whatever she wants. You want to tell her that Amanda lives in a make believe world. You want to tell her to take control of her life, love and cottle Amanda for what she’s become, but take away her control. You want to, but, of course, you can’t.

Jim works with Tom. A connection exists between the two, even though they know little about each other.

Tom knows. Tom understands. He sees the entire picture, which is his agony. He can’t do anything about it. Stricker empowers Tom with breath taking awesomeness.

Hartwell’s Jim stands energetically pulsating. Unaware of hidden agendas it is Jim who picks up the role of making everyone feel comfortable. Hartwell supplies Jim as a breath of fresh air in a stale, stagnate environment, unaware that Laura loved and worshipped him afar in high school.

He’s sorry Laura doesn’t feel well. He’s fascinated by the glass menagerie. He’s haunted by the broken unicorn that now is “just like the other horses”. Whoa, wait a minute; he has another life that Tom didn’t know about, and the make believe world crashes at their feet.

The decision by Paragon and David Lafont’s set design to keep the set simplified, down to the bare necessities, is brilliant. There’s a table for the menagerie. Because Tom, Laura, and Amanda see them, so do you. When Laura holds the unicorn, you can see the tiny glass figurine in detail. With everything in pantomime, you believe they really are eating. You see the dishes Amanda clears from the table. The empty picture frame where Mr. Wingfield lives becomes stunningly full of life. The emphasis on the characters invites four-dimensional personalities to invade the space seeing them in full force, enabling everyone to hear their stories of truth and un-truth, reality crushed with illusion. The result is The Glass Menagerie becomes fuller, richer and deeper than it’s ever been. That’s saying a total mouthful because I have experienced some knock out productions that left me reeling. Paragon just takes it into a higher realm.

Whatever your plans, whatever your calendar looks like, just don’t miss Paragon’s incredibly awesome production.

The Glass Menagerie
By Tennessee Williams; Directed by Warren Sherrill