NOSTALGIA NEVER GETS OLD
When The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams premiered on Broadway in 1945, it became his first major success. Nearly 80 years later, the play remains relevant, touching on themes of family conflict, personal failure, and the power of memory. At the heart of the story is a fractured family: an angry son longing for escape, a painfully shy daughter crippled by self-doubt, and a mother torn between nostalgia for her glamorous Southern past and the harsh reality of her present circumstances.
But now we’re in 1937, and Amanda Wingfield’s husband has abandoned her, leaving her to scrape together a living to support herself and her two grown children. Despite her hardships, she clings to the memory of her youth as a highly popular sought-after Southern belle in Mississippi, a time when she was adored and her family held prestige.
Some theatergoers might consider The Glass Menagerie dated, but Los Altos Stage Company’s production proves otherwise—brought to life as it is by the nuanced direction of LASC’s artistic director, Gary Landis, and the compelling performances of its four-person cast. Memory plays such as this became popular in American theater largely due to the nostalgia that grew out of World War II, but The Glass Menagerie, which was written in 1943, was the mold-breaker. So much yearning, so much repressed anger. Americans were ripe for this genre, and faded Southern belles–once carefree, now desperate–were perfect avatars.
As the matriarch, Amanda, Kristin Walter is superb, capturing both her overbearing nature and the desperate hope that fuels her illusions. She refuses to see her grown children as they truly are, instead molding them to fit her idealized vision of success and security.
Her son, Tom (a stalwart, if somewhat stiff Max Mahle) serves as the play’s narrator, often retreating to the fire escape to smoke and reflect on the past. He is the only one in the household with a job, working long hours at a shoe warehouse to support his family. Yet, suffocated by his home life, he spends his nights at the movies—or possibly somewhere more illicit—seeking an escape from his crushing responsibilities.
Tom’s sister Laura, April Culver is an explosion of neuroses, psychoses and a giant dollop of insecurity. Laura suffered from a childhood illness that resulted in a limp, so in high school she had to wear a heavy brace that made her the butt of cruel jokes. As a result, she just wants to stay at home and play with all the beautiful little glass animals that her father once brought her when he returned from a trip. She calls it her ‘glass menagerie.’
At the start of Act I, Tom tells the audience that the play is “A memory play. It’s not realistic. What you see may not be exactly what happened.” This line underscores the central theme of the production: the way memory distorts reality. Amanda, Tom, and Laura all cling to their own versions of the past, which in turn shapes their expectations for the present and future.
Amanda’s greatest wish is for Laura to marry. She constantly urges her daughter to look her best in case a “gentleman caller” arrives. But no gentleman caller ever comes—until Tom finally relents to his mother’s pressure and invites a coworker home for dinner. A fellow shipping clerk named Jim, (nicely underplayed by a solid Christian Vaughn-Munck) he is a former high school acquaintance of Laura’s, and is now an ambitious, self-assured young man. Amanda, thrilled at the prospect of a suitor, spares no effort in making the evening special, putting slipcovers over the living room furniture, a lace tablecloth and her good china and crystal on the dining room table.
Vaughn-Munck skillfully portrays Jim’s warmth and sincerity as he helps Laura gain some self-confidence, convincing her that she needs to stand up for herself against her domineering mother. Jim’s presence has a profound effect on Laura—he inspires her to break through her self-doubt, even if only for a fleeting moment. Their tender, heartbreaking interaction is the emotional high point of the play.
Beyond the performances, the production excels in its design. Scenic designer Seafus Chatmon enhances the play’s dreamlike quality with bold-colored walls and period-appropriate furniture. Lisa Claybaugh’s costumes perfectly capture the era and each character’s personality. Carsten Koester’s lighting design further elevates the atmosphere, subtly reinforcing the play’s themes of memory and illusion.
Los Altos Stage Company’s The Glass Menagerie is a beautifully rendered production. With powerful performances and thoughtful direction, it reminds us that Williams’ poignant exploration of family, regret, and the struggle for escape is as relevant today as it was in 1945.
photos by Scott Lasky Photography
The Glass Menagerie
Los Altos Stage Company
Bus Barn Theater, 97 Hillview Ave. in Los Altos
Wed-Sat at 8; Sun at 3
ends on February 16, 2025
for tickets ($28-$51), call 650.941.0551 or visit Los Altos Stage Co.
Joanne Engelhardt is a former San Jose Mercury and Santa Cruz Sentinel writer and theatre critic and is a member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Critics Circle. Contact: [email protected]
