Always Be Closing, Your Life Depends on It

A few years ago, I worked as a writer for a dying magazine. On one side of the office, we had the writers, designers, creatives; we all knew were doomed. We were cynical, we cracked jokes about it, we discussed job offers while our boss walked past. On the other side of the office were the sales guys. They dressed like they were closing million-dollar deals instead of selling ad space in a niche print magazine nobody read.

There was something I admired in them. They warped reality around them. Every day, they would wear expensive suits, polish their expensive shoes, and go out to meet clients in their expensive cars. "A client is not gonna take you seriously if you look like shit. So you dress nicely, you get there in a nice car, you take them out to dinner, get them drunk, give them the best night of their lives." Before landing with us, they had worked with politicians and businessmen, and they all had unbelievable stories.

I loved their stories. Mostly becase they were playing a role with such conviction. At the same time, I felt a tinge of superiority because I thought I'd never convince myself of something that vapid. We were the lowest of the low, and our numbers were terrible. But every week they'd come in with another story about wining and dining a client into submission. Basically, they were the guys from Glengarry Glen Ross.

Always Be Closing

Of course, we didn't sell shit. We had the salesmen, but we didn't have Alec Baldwin to light a fire under their asses. I know for a fact they would have loved the Always Be Closing scene.

Always Be Closing. Fuck or walk. It takes brass balls. I'd hear the Mexican equivalents of these lines every day. The scene is the ethos for the whole film. It encapsulates everything these characters want, their fears, their values. Most of all, the scene paints the perfect picture of how they all see the world.

Baldwin's Blake has practiced his sales pitch a million times. The ABCs on the board, the posture, the way he talks and walks. It's all a performance, but the content is real for them. When he attacks the older salesmen, he goes straight for the core flaw in each.

With Ed Harris's Dave, he talks about how much money he's made; always comparing himself to the other salesmen, always thinking he's owed something. Blake talks about the BMW he's driving, about the watch he's wearing. They're on different levels.

When he goes for George (Alan Arkin), the whole speech is about being a pushover, a bitch. He knows George won't say anything back. And that's exactly what happens: George sits there, motionless, taking everything Blake says.

Finally, with Shelley (Jack Lemmon), he goes for his pride as a salesman. "You call yourself a salesman, you son of a bitch?" Shelley has had "bad luck" lately, but he wants everyone to know he's a great salesman, that he can come back at any point.

Remember, these men are their jobs; their way of interacting with the world is through selling and negotiation. Like the devil, Blake seems to know exactly what what to say to each guy to destroy him.

Of course, it's easy to say he's the bad guy. He walks into an office full of people he doesn't know and just attacks them. Humiliates them. He threatens their job. And he doesn't give a fuck. He says so many times, in case you don't believe me. In reality, he's just stating the moral facts of the world these men live in. It's all about results, about getting on the board. "Get them to sign on the line which is dotted."

They've all agreed to the terms of this world, and they can all leave at any point. But they take the abuse. Dave tries to fight back at one point, but there's nothing to say. What Blake says is gospel, and these guys are all believers.

As Blake goes on with his rant, a sign on the wall says, "Salesmen are born, not made". No one comments on it, it's just set dressing. On its own, nothing to notice. But combine it with the last thing Blake says, "A loser is a loser".

That's at the core of this scene. What's your nature, a loser or a closer? You either have the killer instinct or you don’t. There’s no room for context, no room for redemption. You didn’t close? You don’t belong. That’s the most violent part of the scene the underlying idea that some people are just inherently worthless; and our salesmen are starting to figure out what they are.

Brass Balls for Baldwin

The Always Be Closing scene is just seven minutes long, yet overshadows the rest of the movie. It's crazy to think that a character who is only in one scene can leave the biggest impression, especially in a film with talent like Al Pacino, Ed Harris, Alan Arkin and Jack Lemmon. Their performances are all incredible, but it's Baldwin who steals the show.

Everything in the scene is made to amplify Baldwin's character. His black suit contrasts with the dull gray and green that permeates the entire office. He looks elegant, young, assertive. Just in the way he looks, he's everything the older salesmen wish they were.

There's something in the way the camera lags behind him like a nervous assistant, trying to keep up while he paces the room. When he says “Do you get the picture?” and steps over to glare at Jack Lemmon, the whole shot has to reposition itself to catch up.

He commands the space. You can practically see the desks being rearranged just so Blake can glide through. Reading a bit about the behind the scenes, I learned that each actor was involved in deciding the props for their desks, the distances between them, the orientation, etc. But Baldwin wasn't part of this process. He's invading, he doesn't care about space or the memories it has.

However, Baldwin did get involved in the making of the brass balls. Even 30 years ago, he was tinkering with the prop department. He wanted the perfect weight and size, he wanted them to clink, to be easy to hold. There's never a point where you don't think everything's too much, yet you agree with all of it.

The scene that almost wasn't

One of the first things people love to point out about the scene is that it wasn’t in the original play. David Mamet wrote it specifically for the film. The idea was to raise the stakes, to give the characters a clear threat and a ticking clock. I guess he realized a bunch of sad men mumbling around a table didn’t exactly scream “cinema.” So he gave them Blake.

The power of a good monologue is that it bends the gravity of a film around it. After this scene, you feel Baldwin’s character in the background of every scene and decision the characters make, even though he never shows up again.

And the whole thing almost didn't happen. Alec Baldwin actually dropped out of the project at first. The financing wasn’t there, the production was stalled. But he couldn't get the script out of his head. The scene was written with him in mind. So he came back after a while. That’s how iconic it was from the jump.

Back at the magazine, we never sold shit, but the sales guys never stopped trying. They got loud and drunk and desperate, but they kept trying to sell. Because they had accepted they could only be either closers or losers, and things were looking like they were going to be losers. They had adopted a worldview where they were forced to believe in themselves. They believed they were made for the hunt. They didn’t just sell, they were salesmen to their core, closers. Once you believe that salesmen are born, not made, and a loser is a loser, you can’t afford to let go. You either live the fantasy or admit the truth.