One of the most terrifying and engaging experiences I ever
had was seeing NYC’s Off Broadway production of Bug by Tracy Letts. I don’t
think I have seen a production or movie this terrifying, yet real, since. This play later became a much different take
on film, for me at least, starring Ashley Judd and Michael Shannon. I believe the film brought a little too much
reality, or filled in the gaps, whereas the play’s abstract moments left much
open for the audience to imagine. Bug is about a woman, Agnes, who meets
an ex-soldier, Peter, in a motel room, but eventually gets swept up in his
paranoia about the government conducting experiments on Gulf War soldiers by
injecting bugs into their bodies. Agnes
hides out in a dive motel room from her abusive ex-husband who is supposed to
be released from prison at any moment, as well as from the pain of her child
being abducted several years earlier.
Her son is a very real presence for Agnes throughout the play since she
believes he is still alive somewhere.
Letts includes “dark matter” moments throughout the play to add to the
fear and confusion.
The play begins with a series of prank phone calls that
Agnes tries to ignore after blaming her abusive ex-husband as the culprit. This outside fear of Jerry looms until he
arrives at the motel unexpectedly later in the play. Peter gets bitten by a bug and jumps out of
bed, naked, the next morning trying to find where it came from. In the film, you see Agnes and Peter
eventually get bite marks all over their body…or maybe it’s the scab marks they
scratch away thinking they are bug bites.
In the NYC production, the audience never sees the effect of the “bugs”;
so the audience wonders whether it is truly the characters’ paranoia or an
actual occurrence. Are there really bugs implanted in Peter that are infesting
his body and spreading to Agnes? The characters feel them and see them since “…such
invisible presences matter very much indeed, even if spectators, characters,
and performers cannot put their hands on them” (Sofer 3). With the movie, it forces you to assume
something is happening. Another character,
Dr. Sweet, stops by the motel room looking for Peter. His ambiguous involvement makes the audience
question if he is there to help Peter’s PTSD, or if he’s an actual agent of the
government coming to take their experiment away. He eventually gets killed by Peter, who has a
meltdown, and convinces Agnes that the doctor is not a real man, but a robot
from the government. Another “dark
matter” moment is when the audience wonders whether or not the actual army is
outside of the hotel room waiting to pounce on Peter when a helicopter is heard
flying above the motel. The world,
outside of the motel room, is never seen since the characters barricade themselves
in the room with fear and anxiety. “It
is dark matter that produces the difference between horror and terror…Horror is
what we see; terror is what we know is there though it remains unseen”(Sofer
5). Letts uses a fair amount of
ambiguity in his play that intensify the presence of certain “dark matter”
moments. These moments are really
effective in producing in the audience a similar experience to the characters
involved. Watch this clip from the movie
where Peter believes he is bugged with an egg sack under his molar filling and
violently pulls his tooth out in front of Agnes.
I couldn’t help but remember my experience of visiting the Yad
Vashem Holocaust Museum when I traveled with my church group to Israel in
2011. Our tour guide told the group that
it is a requirement of the schools in Israel for students to visit the
Holocaust Museum every year so the horror is never forgotten--never allowed to
happen again in human history. Most of the museum is underground and
constructed as a huge prism. Spectators
walk through the concrete walls as if they are in hiding from the danger of the
outside Nazi threat…or perhaps imprisoned in the gas chambers unable to get
out. Artifacts from victims are
displayed on pedestals and hanging casings, videos of interviews from
survivors, history of the time period, and artwork that carries a certain
emotional weight are seen throughout the museum. What was really compelling to me and my
friends, was the simple yet touching Children’s Exhibit Memorial. We walked into a pitch black, cavernous room
outside of the museum (one of the last stops before leaving)
where a single candle was lit that reflected off a thousand or so tiny mirrors. The flame resembled to that of millions of
stars throughout the room as names of children, and the camps from where they died,
were read over the sound system.
The Museum also hosts readings of literature and small plays,
at times, as exhibits. However, I did not witness such an event when I visited. If the displays and exhibitions had such an
impact on me, I can only guess that these other exhibits might create some of
the same responses. And the way that the
different displays were arranged created a touching, yet emotional experience. There were very realistic images and displays
for the spectator, but also abstract artwork and moments interwoven throughout
the museum.
I don’t believe there is any redeeming factor concerning the
Holocaust because the event looms in the background at all times. What is moving, and at times inspirational,
are the struggles, or stories, of the victims involved. The artistic composition in the
Museum didn’t create “…a power to elicit enjoyment” as Adorno writes in his
article. But it was an experience of
respect and remembrance. Visit the
website to find out more!
http://www.yadvashem.org/YV/en/museum/index.asp
I have only read BUG, and the moment you talked about him thinking there were bugs underneath is molar jarred me into remembering how disturbing I found it. So, it was very interesting hearing you talk about the production of it that you saw; it made me want to see it too.
ReplyDeleteI was also interested in reading about your trip to the Holocaust museum. I went to the museum at Dachau in Germany back when I was in high school. My memory of it is similar to your experience: displays of victims' items, their stories, their names, the gas chambers. But really what I remember the most about it was the atmosphere. How heavy the air seemed. We were a large, loud, boisterous group of high school students before we got there, but when we were there and for a good time after leaving, we were silent. Actually being in the place, walking on the same ground where these people suffered, there really isn't anything words can say about it, not to sound cheesy, but it felt almost like the very air of the camp refused to let anyone forget what happened there.