The Glass Menagerie review

First staged in 1944, Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie is a classic piece of theatre. Described by Williams as a 'memory play', he draws on his own experiences to tell the story of the Wingfield family, including the restless Tom, his controlling mother Amanda, and his fragile sister Laura. Set in a small apartment in 1930s St. Louis, the play explores the theme of how memories shape our past and our future and the divide between the world as it is and the world as we'd like it.


Under the direction of Nicholas Reynolds and Nadia Sirninger Rankin, the Wingfield household is a haven of familiarity and safety. The way the family moves, stands, and sits on stage conveys a natural ease, as if this is the one place they are truly secure. The heart of The Glass Menagerie lies in the depictions of the emotional struggles these people face. Unfortunately, the performances miss the crucial push and pull that drives the story. Amanda lacks the fierce dominance she needs, Laura’s fragility is muted, and Tom’s inner battle never quite surfaces. Together, this weakens their dynamics, and the heartbreaking and haunting finale loses its effect.

Linda Cookson as the matriarch drifts into a softness and haze that feels more like Blanche DuBois than the fiery, overbearing mother that is written here. While she leans heavily into nostalgia and delicacy, her pushiness and control get forgotten. The exhausting, relentless energy that should suffocate her children, and captivate the audience, is not present. Instead, she floats through scenes and the drama falls flat, resulting in Amanda being inadvertently passive.

Caitlin McCallig’s Laura shows the physical signs of her vulnerable state with the constant fidgeting and the limp, but her voice, stare, and facial expressions fail to capture the deep isolation and trauma she has. Laura is haunted by her own vulnerabilities and fear of the outside, but the emotional weight is underplayed. Similarly, Oliver Gorringe is missing the nuance of a man torn between duty and escape, and the guilt of abandoning his family. Tom is meant to be on edge, barely holding it together, with regret simmering under every interaction, but we don’t see the mask slipping or the internal conflict come through. The silence, hesitations, and tight jaw that should reveal his turmoil are dulled, leaving the character distant and underdeveloped.

Ashley Reid’s set design captures the false riches and pretence the family lives under, with numerous rugs, flashy furniture and lampshades creating a veneer of comfort. The skeleton structure of the four walls lets us peer directly into their private life, making the experience unique and intimate. We are getting to see through any public facades.

Viv Hargreaves’ misty lighting design amplifies the idea that these characters are lost in their dreams, regrets, and memories. However, the power blackout scene is too dark for too long and could have been a little lighter to maintain engagement while keeping the mood of the darkened house. Rohan Dimsey’s sound design seamlessly brings the outside in, and with music that adds a sense of longing to these peoples’ existence.

There’s a clear appreciation for the world Williams created, and this production by Victory People Productions and Running with Scissors Theatre demonstrates a good understanding of this, with design choices that create a well-suited environment for the Wingfields. The direction offers moments of solace and reprieve for the characters, that allows for a realistic dynamic, but without the emotional tension that should sit just below the surface driving the performances, the show doesn’t quite land the impact The Glass Menagerie demands.

SHOW DETAILS

Venue: Meat Market, 2 Wreckyn St, North Melbourne
Season: until 2 August | Thurs - Sat 7.30pm
Duration: 150 minutes
Tickets: $50 Full | $34 Conc
Bookings: Humanitix