BUG
Runs through March 8, 2026 at The Samuel J. Friedman Theatre, New York NY
Written by Tracy Letts
Directed by David Cromer
Starring Carrie Coon, Namir Smallwood
Written by Tracy Letts, BUG remains a startlingly timeless work, its anxieties and obsessions no less potent now than when it first appeared in 2004. David Cromer’s direction approaches the material with confidence and restraint, trusting the play’s slow-burning psychological architecture rather than pushing it toward excess. Long admired in its film incarnation, this stage production invited the opportunity to experience Letts’s world without the distance of a screen, to sit inside its claustrophobia and paranoia as they unfold in real time.
In an era still shaped by the psychological residue of COVID, institutional mistrust, and the steady erosion of certainty, Bug feels unnervingly current, not because it references the moment directly, but because it understands fear as a condition that feeds on isolation. From the moment the lights settle, Bug immerses the audience in an eerie, enclosed world. Takeshi Kata’s scenic design captures a worn motel authenticity, down to the kind of comforter that carries its own quiet history. Set within a black box, the space establishes an immediate sense of claustrophobia that grows progressively more oppressive as the evening unfolds. While the environment effectively signals deterioration, it remains carefully controlled, its evolution mirroring the tightening psychological pressure within the room.
Heather Gilbert’s lighting moves fluidly from deceptive warmth into stark night and finally into a piercing daylight that feels almost invasive. At one point, the realism was so convincing I half-expected the back wall to give way to the theater beyond. A final lighting choice lands with a jolt, using theatrical limitation as creative strength rather than constraint. Josh Schmidt’s sound design quietly amplifies unease, punctuating the space with subtle disturbances that remain effective even during a matinee performance. There was even a fleeting sensory illusion early on, the faint suggestion of cigarette smoke, that deepened the immersive effect.
Carrie Coon and Namir Smallwood deliver strong, seasoned performances. Coon carries the weight of Agnes’s fractured inner life with palpable control, while Smallwood brings a disarming sweetness and timidity to Peter that feels genuinely inhabited rather than performed. Their connection reads less as combustible obsession and more as fragile camaraderie, two damaged people tentatively orbiting one another. I believed the initial intimacy, though I didn’t always feel the mutual urgency that might propel them beyond companionship into something more consuming. I was reminded of Bobby and Helen in Panic in Needle Park, where affection is inseparable from shared damage and love functions as both lifeline and threat.
In Bug, horror, trauma, and psychology are employed with care and precision. Bodily fixation and moments of raw imagery generate a visceral unease that registers quickly, while the contrast between the calm beyond the room and the steadily escalating paranoia within it is thoughtfully shaped. What proved especially effective was how the audience itself became part of the atmosphere. Uneasy sighs, sharp inhales, and audible groans rippled through the house, creating a collective tension that recalled an older theatrical tradition.
The experience brought to mind the Théâtre du Grand-Guignol in Paris, where it was said audiences were meant to feel immersed and unsettled, sometimes to the point of fainting, necessitating nurses and doctors on staff as part of the spectacle’s infamous legacy. In that lineage, Bug gestures toward an understanding of theater not merely as something to be observed, but endured.
It also calls to mind works like The Pillowman, haunting spectacles of grief and psychological extremity that linger well beyond the final moment. Anchored by strong performances and an atmosphere that tightens its grip scene by scene, Bug offers a carefully measured descent. It doesn’t scream for your attention. It waits, and takes you firmly by the wrist.
BUG
Runs through March 8, 2026 at The Samuel J. Friedman Theatre New York, NY
Written by Tracy Letts
Directed by David Cromer
Starring Carrie Coon, Namir Smallwood
With Randall Arney, Jenifer Engstrom, Steve Key
Scenic Design: Takeshi Kata
Costume Design: Sarah Laux
Lighting Design: Heather Gilbert
Sound Design: Josh Schmidt
Hair and Makeup Design: J. Jared Janas
Dialect and Vocal Coach: Gigi Buffington
Intimacy Coordinator and Fight Director: Marcus Watson
Production Stage Manager: Christine D. Freeburg