BUG, Lynn Collins, Ashley Judd, Michael Shannon, 2006. ©Lions Gate/courtesy Everett Collection
After picking up a Blu-ray copy of Bug at Viper Video in Tampa, I eagerly told my wife a little bit about the film. She hadn’t seen it, and I was planning on playing it for us soon. As I teased the film, without spoilers, something started to stick in my mind: William Friedkin’s Bug is a meditation on rabbitholes, delusion, mental illness, and substance abuse–and it also portrays an eerily relevant recipe for modern radicalization.
Agnes (Ashley Judd) doesn’t fall victim to a contemporary version of political or social radicalization. Still, the pit she falls into and the way she finds herself there are incredibly similar to the epidemic our society faces. The film begins with a bookending image and a phone call; Agnes operates in a disheveled haze, and she is frustrated and fearful. Agnes is in a state of isolation and uncertainty, stuck in the crumbling social, political, and familial systems that have completely disrupted her foundation. Where she lives– in a lower-class, rural, dilapidated town– isn’t a coincidence; it’s one of the inciting factors. We see her push away friends, forgo healthy support systems, and destabilize while every system that is supposed to help her fails. This amalgam creates the perfect opportunity for a mental descent to take place.
Radical Horror
She is introduced to Peter (Michael Shannon) by her only friend, and through conversation, she clearly sees a part of herself in him — someone else who is lost in uncertain times. He presents as meek in his physicality and tone–quiet words, sheepishly raised shoulders. He verbally conveys he’s harmless: he’s not interested in Agnes sexually, and rebuts Agnes’ half-joking remark to her friend, asserting he is not an axe murderer. Peter refrains from drugs or alcohol, and he is steady and self-assured. Agnes is trying to find an even footing amid the current chaos, and Peter, though a stranger, presents a nice sense of stability.
He confidently makes unverifiable claims that make him seem above the systems that try to keep people down. Peter gives Agnes answers to questions she hasn’t even asked yet. Those who become radicalized often have genuine and legitimate qualms — but have found an extreme, frequently incorrect, answer from those who present themselves much like Peter.
“No wonder I feel lousy all the time,” is a key remark from Agnes, one that lays the groundwork for the rest of the film. She does feel lousy all the time, and now, as she’s told, it was due to secret radiation poisoning done by fire detectors all along, and all you have to do is remove the device. A simple answer, and a simple solution, for a lingering, intangible problem. Whoever is providing these answers can seem like a lifeline for someone struggling, for someone lost. It can feel like a light at the end of an endless tunnel. Shannon walks a tightrope of character reliability. It is a complex and challenging task, something he accomplishes for the entire duration–it’s always difficult to tell how genuine and truthful he actually is.
Courtesy of Lionsgate
A Parallel to Our World
Peter again presents as a steadier, more hopeful option amid the introduction of an immediate danger when Agnes’ ex-boyfriend, Jerry (Harry Connick Jr.), unexpectedly shows back up at her apartment. In this vulnerable state, in this constant influx of uncertainty, Peter seems to continue providing the answers. Peter and Agnes sleep together, in a scene filmed and edited more like an alien ceremony or an ancient ritual than a romantic one. Afterward, in the middle of the night, Peter wakes up to a bite and sees a bug on the bed. He is certain there is an infestation, but Agnes can’t see it. Truth is not definitive in any sense here. What we see through the rest of the film is a rabbit hole, a possible delusion, a perfect set of answers to every unknowable problem.
When whatever fragile foundation that was already there has been ripped out from under you, a vacuum of vulnerability opens. When you feel lost, like you have been robbed of everything, a self-assured person who presents themselves as a friend can be all it takes to start delving into delusion. It begins with admitting that you do actually see a bug in the bed, even though you’re really not sure you do. That first step is when the foundation has officially been replaced. You have found a new foundation —one that provides certainty, answers, and self-defense—things that Agnes did not have until then.
Courtesy of Lionsgate
Transformative and Surreal
Ashley Judd and Michael Shannon are lightning rods. The physicality of their performances is unbelievable. The transformation Shannon undergoes is stark: from a kind stranger to a darker, more violent, and more physically intimidating force than the forces originally plaguing Agnes. He has the most self-assured, religious, rapturous determination. Judd dials up the messy, neurotic nature of Agnes, fully portraying a woman pushed over the edge. Friedkin’s direction and Tracy Letts’ writing are a fantastic duo–Friedkin brings fear and visual energy to an otherwise claustrophobic and static story; you barely leave the apartment, but the apartment begins to make a transformation of its own. It is a horrifying, endlessly escalating film.
With Peter’s assistance, with just the right amount of selective information being dripped, with subjects to point the blame toward, Agnes falls into the pit. She is alone; she has no support; she has just the right amount of credulity and the inability to challenge the things Peter presents to her as fact. Today, this extends beyond the home into chat rooms and social media. Whether it’s done by malicious actors, news sources, politicians, or friends who believe they have the answers, radicalization and the rejection of reality are the most significant modern problems. Sometimes that assurance of certainty, of answers, and of self-defense is more potent than facing a harsh reality.
Courtesy of Lionsgate
Not the Only Bug of its Kind
When I recently went to see Yorgos Lanthimos’ Bugonia, the overlap of the ethos of these two films struck me. All the main characters’ problems are real–they have all been failed by the social systems in America. They have all found their own evidence, their own answers, and their own reinforcing feedback loops of information to solidify themselves.
Our society incentivizes social isolation while our government rips apart social safety nets and defunds mental health care. We want to pretend that we are above falling into fear and delusion. The vast majority of Americans are significantly closer to completely losing their foundation than they realize. Bug works as a cautionary tale. We can’t do much to prevent framework disruption, but we can prevent isolation; we can do our best to keep ourselves grounded. Agnes’s descent is a chilling and fervent reminder of the importance of having solid support systems, not letting yourself fall into a rabbit hole, and staying alert to those who claim to have every answer. Bug doesn’t save you from delusion, hopelessness, anger, radicalization–but it does warn you of it.
Categorized: Editorials
