Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie may be rooted in the anxieties and shadows of Depression-era 1930s America, but Dundee Rep’s new production proves its emotional truths of broken dreams, gendered expectation, and the desperate need to escape remain striking. Andrew Panton’s poised revival, in collab with Glasgow’s Citizens Theatre and Edinburgh’s Royal Lyceum, captures both the period detail and the universal ache of Williams’ memory play.
Christopher Jordan-Marshall’s Tom drifts between narrator and participant, a restless soul trapped by duty and dulled by routine. His longing for freedom hums beneath every word while his quiet desperation is mirrored by his mother Amanda, played with precision by Sara Stewart. Gone is the shrill caricature of the faded Southern belle as Stewart offers instead a heartbreakingly human woman clinging to dignity and hope to secure (what she perceives to be) happiness for her children before it’s too late.
Amy Conachan’s Laura is the emotional core of the production. Poised and clear-sighted, she delivers a performance of subtle strength and gentle humour, lending a fresh perspective to a role often played as fragile and timid. Her luminous performance alongside Declan Spaine’s Jim O’Connor turns their second act encounter into a moment of aching intimacy when hope briefly illuminates before it inevitably flickers out.
Visually, the production is spare and evocative. Emily James’s skeletal set and Simon Wilkinson’s moody lighting conjure a world on the verge of dissolving, mirroring the characters’ crumbling illusions against Reuben Joseph’s moody blue compositions. Panton’s direction is restrained, allowing the play’s dreamlike quality to unfold without sentimentality, drawing out its rhythms with patience and purpose, beautifully showcased with moving tableaux moments choregraphed by Emily Jane Boyle. The pace builds inexorably toward the final, devastating farewell, reminding all that memory itself can be both comfort and curse.
Though some may struggle with the pace and find it a touch overlong in places, this is a finely judged, quietly devastating revival that honours Williams’ lyricism while keeping the story raw and relatable. Its fragility feels timeless in a shimmering and haunting reflection on gender roles, escapism, familial responsibility, and unfulfilled desire.
The Glass Menagerie is at The Royal Lyceum Theatre Edinburgh until Saturday 8 November.
Tickets here.
© Lindsay Corr, October 2025.