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Theatre Exile's "Bug'
Steve Cohen
Scaring the pants off us
STEVE COHEN
The first thing we see in Theatre Exile’s production of Bug is a new Grace Gonglewski. As she leans against the doorway of a motel room, Gonglewski looks youthful and sensual. When we finally see her face we realize she’s agitated and worn down. Gonglewski is Agnes, a woman in her 40s who is upset because her ex-husband has been released from jail and may come stalking her.
This isn’t the familiar regal Gonglewski who has reined on Philadelphia stages since the ’90s, usually as a poised, dignified protagonist (e.g., Hedda Gabler, Candida, Major Barbara plus numerous Shakespearean heroines). In Bug, Tracy Letts’s comic shocker, she is unglamorous and is on the receiving end of the play’s action, cowered into submission by her belligerent ex and then by the opposite: a man who is diffident, respectful and caring. One of the play’s surprises is how this meek guy turns out to be the greater danger.
Gonglewski as Aggie and Matt Saunders as the new man, Peter, are spectacular in this effective rendition of a play meant to scare the pants off us. Incidentally, the play also mandates that the pants come off the two leading actors. In more ways than one, we are seeing a new view of Gonglewski and Saunders.
Nothing in common but sex
Sex appeal is a necessary ingredient because these two characters seem to have nothing else in common. Aggie’s a bit crude and spends her time drinking and snorting coke; Peter’s an introverted intellectual. The role requires Saunders to appear so attractive and appealing that we care for him and understand why Aggie falls for him. Like Gonglewski, Saunders meets the challenge magnificently.
The set (designed by the versatile Saunders) is a spot-on evocation of a seedy motel room. Every detail is perfect, from the spackled ceiling to the furniture to an air conditioner that needs to be banged to start running.
The stage direction by Matt Pfeiffer, sound design by James Sugg and the supporting actors (particularly William Zielinkski, who miraculously makes the violent ex-con seem empathetic) are all superb. The play itself is gripping but less satisfying than Letts’s Killer Joe or August: Osage County. Aside from Saunders’s Peter, the characters have less back-story and less development. But Letts is a master in creating interesting situations and manipulating the audience.
Master of the shock story
He disturbs us and frightens us while keeping us laughing. His talent is unlike that of Eugene O’Neill or Arthur Miller, who gave us people we could relate to. Letts belongs more in a class with his contemporary, Martin McDonagh (The Pillowman, Beauty Queen of Lenane, The Lieutenant of Inishmore): Both are masters of shocking story-telling.
One interesting thing about Letts is that he creates lower-class characters who speak intelligently, with an erudition that most Easterners don’t expect from Oklahomans. The players in Bug resemble the playwright, born and raised in Oklahoma, as are the characters of Killer Joe and August: Osage County. Most of us don’t know any such people, while Letts clearly does. So maybe his Oklahomans are realistic and not just a theatrical affectation. In either case, this has become a recognizable Letts trademark.
Bug’s Agnes and Peter are victims of paranoia, some of it fueled by cocaine. He is hysterical about bugs and about being bugged (that is, spied upon). Is this a sickness he acquired in the Gulf War? Was he the subject of medical experiments by the U.S. Army? What leads Agnes in the same direction? Whatever happened to the child she "lost" in a supermarket? These questions are raised but never answered. Still, the play keeps us on the edge of our seats. The Theater Exile production, in all its aspects, is admirable.
STEVE COHEN
The first thing we see in Theatre Exile’s production of Bug is a new Grace Gonglewski. As she leans against the doorway of a motel room, Gonglewski looks youthful and sensual. When we finally see her face we realize she’s agitated and worn down. Gonglewski is Agnes, a woman in her 40s who is upset because her ex-husband has been released from jail and may come stalking her.
This isn’t the familiar regal Gonglewski who has reined on Philadelphia stages since the ’90s, usually as a poised, dignified protagonist (e.g., Hedda Gabler, Candida, Major Barbara plus numerous Shakespearean heroines). In Bug, Tracy Letts’s comic shocker, she is unglamorous and is on the receiving end of the play’s action, cowered into submission by her belligerent ex and then by the opposite: a man who is diffident, respectful and caring. One of the play’s surprises is how this meek guy turns out to be the greater danger.
Gonglewski as Aggie and Matt Saunders as the new man, Peter, are spectacular in this effective rendition of a play meant to scare the pants off us. Incidentally, the play also mandates that the pants come off the two leading actors. In more ways than one, we are seeing a new view of Gonglewski and Saunders.
Nothing in common but sex
Sex appeal is a necessary ingredient because these two characters seem to have nothing else in common. Aggie’s a bit crude and spends her time drinking and snorting coke; Peter’s an introverted intellectual. The role requires Saunders to appear so attractive and appealing that we care for him and understand why Aggie falls for him. Like Gonglewski, Saunders meets the challenge magnificently.
The set (designed by the versatile Saunders) is a spot-on evocation of a seedy motel room. Every detail is perfect, from the spackled ceiling to the furniture to an air conditioner that needs to be banged to start running.
The stage direction by Matt Pfeiffer, sound design by James Sugg and the supporting actors (particularly William Zielinkski, who miraculously makes the violent ex-con seem empathetic) are all superb. The play itself is gripping but less satisfying than Letts’s Killer Joe or August: Osage County. Aside from Saunders’s Peter, the characters have less back-story and less development. But Letts is a master in creating interesting situations and manipulating the audience.
Master of the shock story
He disturbs us and frightens us while keeping us laughing. His talent is unlike that of Eugene O’Neill or Arthur Miller, who gave us people we could relate to. Letts belongs more in a class with his contemporary, Martin McDonagh (The Pillowman, Beauty Queen of Lenane, The Lieutenant of Inishmore): Both are masters of shocking story-telling.
One interesting thing about Letts is that he creates lower-class characters who speak intelligently, with an erudition that most Easterners don’t expect from Oklahomans. The players in Bug resemble the playwright, born and raised in Oklahoma, as are the characters of Killer Joe and August: Osage County. Most of us don’t know any such people, while Letts clearly does. So maybe his Oklahomans are realistic and not just a theatrical affectation. In either case, this has become a recognizable Letts trademark.
Bug’s Agnes and Peter are victims of paranoia, some of it fueled by cocaine. He is hysterical about bugs and about being bugged (that is, spied upon). Is this a sickness he acquired in the Gulf War? Was he the subject of medical experiments by the U.S. Army? What leads Agnes in the same direction? Whatever happened to the child she "lost" in a supermarket? These questions are raised but never answered. Still, the play keeps us on the edge of our seats. The Theater Exile production, in all its aspects, is admirable.
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