Actress Carrie Coon is picky about the roles she chooses, and it’s paid off with memorable turns on the small screen in “The Leftovers,” “Fargo” and “The Sinner.” Now returning to the stage after an absence of several years, Coon admits she’s in the thick of “the hardest play I’ve ever done.”
That play, “Bug,” comes courtesy of her husband, playwright Tracy Letts, who wrote it in 1996 when he was in his 20s. A love story turned insane paranoid thriller, it’s an emotionally draining experience for both actors and audience.
“It’s a really different tone and energy than what I’m used to doing,” Coon explains. “But it’s so well-written and so tightly wrought that it just invites actors to dig in and try to do their best work.”
“Bug” made its Chicago debut in 2001 at A Red Orchid Theatre with Michael Shannon and Kate Buddeke as the leads. Now nearly two decades later, it’s landing on the Steppenwolf Theater stage under the direction of Tony Award winner David Cromer (“The Band’s Visit”) with Coon and Namir Smallwood starring.
Cromer admits the original production was very much in his head when rehearsals started.
“But neither Carrie nor Namir saw it so they just bring their most truthful take to this version,” he says. “So it’s truly ‘Bug’ but also very different. They bring a fresh eye that maybe Tracy and I don’t have.”
As “Bug” opens, we’re in an Oklahoma hotel room where Agnes (Coon) is hiding from her abusive ex-husband (Steve Key) who’s been released from prison. When her friend R.C. (Jennifer Engstrom) stops by to try to talk her into going out to a party, she brings along intense Gulf War veteran Peter (Smallwood) who may or may not have been a guinea pig in government medical experiments involving bugs. Peter seduces Agnes and she descends into his reality of conspiracy theories and paranoia that leads to a horrific conclusion.
In a video on Steppenwolf’s website, Letts offer some insight: “’Bug’ explores folie à deux, a psychological term that means ‘the madness of two.’ It’s when one person literally catches another person’s psychosis, which also seemed to me kind of like love.”
Cromer says he was moved by the initial love story, a moment that begins Agnes and Peter’s relationship before paranoia and madness consumes them.
“I know a love story is not something people normally associate with ‘Bug’ but without it the play doesn’t exist,” Cromer says. “They have not been treated well by anyone else and start out as two people who are very kind to each other before the play goes through a lot of serious turns based on conspiracy theories, illness and drugs that drag the audience into this strange visceral experience.”
“Bug” is a short play at 90 minutes, but it’s tightly packed with both emotional and physical challenges. It’s something Coon and Smallwood, with guidance from Cromer, choreographed throughout the rehearsal process.
“What I like about Tracy’s work is that he’s very much dealing with class but the people are always fleshed out. His female characters are always well-drawn,” says Coon, whose last appearance at Steppenwolf was in Letts’ “Mary Page Marlowe.” “And because he’s an actor his plays are always very active.”
Smallwood, who is coming off another very intense, physical performance in Steppenwolf’s staging of Sam Shepard’s “True West,” refers to his new assignment as “‘True West’ on steroids.”
“I like this idea of loneliness and paranoia and trying to figure these things out,” Smallwood says. “But when you’re doing a play about mental health your body doesn’t know that it’s a play. You go through certain things and some are harder to shake off than others.”
Despite the loss and trauma, paranoia and madness, Coon sees another side to Agnes and Peter’s connection.
“It feels very hopeful to me because frankly we’re all looking for a sense of purpose, we’re all looking to understand how we got here and what we’re doing. I see ‘Bug’ as a story about two people who find an explanation, take action and solve a problem. So I’ve always found it to be strangely uplifting.”
Mary Houlihan is a local freelance writer.
