In Bug on Broadway, Carrie Coon plays a small town waitress caught up in a web of paranoid delusions and conspiracy theories.
Her character, Agnes, is introduced to these ideas after connecting with Peter, a Gulf War veteran who fixates on a bug problem in her hotel room as part of a larger theory about surveillance. It’s edgy and stands out in the Broadway season, which Coon argues is exactly what’s needed in this political climate.
“It feels subversive to be an artist right now, because there’s a real war on the arts in this country. So bringing something that’s a little edgier and a little darker feels like the way theater should go, and usually goes when people feel oppressed,” Coon said.
Bug, written by Tracy Letts, Coon’s husband, makes its Broadway debut at Manhattan Theatre Club’s Samuel J. Friedman Theatre after premiering in London in 1996 and then seeing several subsequent iterations, as well as a film adaptation.
This production, directed by David Cromer and co-starring Namir Smallwood, also ran twice at Steppenwolf Theatre Company in Chicago (with the first run curtailed by the pandemic) before moving to Broadway. It’s set to open Jan. 8 for a limited run through Feb. 8.
Even after the previous runs, Coon, known for her roles as Bertha Russell in The Gilded Age and Laurie Duffy in The White Lotus, still calls this project the “hardest play” she’s worked on because of the rapid emotional acceleration it requires. Coon says she continues to look for new and edgy roles in theater as her TV and film profile continues to rise.
She spoke with The Hollywood Reporter about the resonance of the play, being internet famous and what will become of the thousands of DVDs Letts continues to acquire for their at-home collection.
How does it feel revisiting this play four years after the Steppenwolf run?
What really changes is the audience and the way the audience is listening, because the world has changed since we did it, and the language is quite startling. Different things pop out depending on when you’re doing the show. And of course, when we did it four years ago, we had the rise of the pandemic, the audiences started to get quieter as people were freaking out. And then we came back after the pandemic subsided and the theater was reopening, and that was kind of the rise of conspiracy thinking like QAnon was really taking root at that time, so people were responding to that. And now I feel like this question of the machines and how we’ll never really be safe again is really landing with the audience.
What was your process like to get into the character of Agnes?
I am often charged with playing really cerebral, very verbal women, intellectual women. But on many levels, Agnes White is actually closer to me than a lot of other characters I play. I grew up in a very working class family, middle class more or less, in a working class area of Ohio. These questions of addiction, working these kinds of low-level jobs, drug use, alcoholism, loneliness, these are not themes that are far from me. So these are my people more than like, Bertha [from The Gilded Age] is my people. And so in some ways, it’s actually closer than most of the other storytelling I’ve done in my career.
It’s also interesting to have this edgy play coming to a nonprofit theater around Christmas, and incorporated into the Broadway season.
Because of the economics of theater, I think producers are forced or inclined to make safe choices, and so I have to respect [Manhattan Theatre Club] for bringing this level of irreverence to their Christmas season. And, for me, I’m always looking for edginess and theatricality in my theater, and I do feel, compared to a place like Europe, which is a real director’s theater, they really take some big swings out there. We see versions of Tracy’s plays unrecognizable to what’s on the page because of the wildness that they’re able to bring because it’s state-supported theater, and everyone has a salary, they have health insurance. There are other things they don’t have to worry about.
It feels subversive to be an artist right now, because there’s a real war on the arts in this country. So bringing something that’s a little edgier and a little darker feels like the way theater should go, and usually goes when people feel oppressed.
Are you able to find more edgy parts in theater than on screen?
TV and film, it has edginess as well, and I’ve gotten invited to do some interesting stuff there, certainly, but I get to express more range in the theater, just because of the nature of theater, which is not so close up. After I did The Leftovers, I was offered grieving moms for the next decade. And as an actor, you want to be invited to do something different, not the same over and over again. And I would say that it’s more common in TV and film to be invited to sort of reiterate something you’ve done, as opposed to the theater, where you can sort of say, I don’t have any limits. When people were surprised to see me crop up in something like The Gilded Age, for example, I’d been doing period pieces in the theater for a decade before I did that, so it was like, TV and film was late to that party.
This is your return to Broadway after making your debut in the 2012 production of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? How does it feel to be back?
it’s funny to be considered kind of a veteran, in a way, even though I’ve only been on Broadway one other time, but because I’m with other people who are making their debut, and because my career has changed so much in the four years since I did the play before, mostly on the internet, my day-to-day life hasn’t changed very much, but just the way I’m received into the world, or the way I’m criticized in the world has changed. So I guess it feels like, on some level, I’m more established, even though I feel like it’s just like my second time out.
It must be kind of nice being just internet famous, as you say, rather than being recognized and approached on the street.
I’ve seen people living with the other thing, and I would find it very oppressive. I understand why people lose their minds. I would say most actors I know are actually very grounded, even the famous ones. I’ve had very healthy experiences with people in my life who carry that and they wear it very well, but there are also some people for whom it creates distortion in their life where they can only surround themselves with a small group of people. And I would never want that, and I don’t want it for my kids. I don’t want them to have to hide from the prying eyes of the world. And Tracy and I just don’t have that problem. We’re just not that interesting, which is great. We’re old. We’re boring. We watch movies in our basement. We don’t have anything salacious going on.
I’ve heard about the famous basement full of DVDs.
I get DVDs every day. It’ll never end. It’s [Tracy’s] primary occupation, collecting DVDs.
What’s wild when you think about an acquisition like Warner Bros. being purchased by a parent company, some of the stuff we have will never be available to the public ever again. It will never be streaming. When something like that happens, the collection actually has more value because we have access to movies that other people will never, ever get to acquire ever again. Tracy was right. There are gatekeepers now, and we will have the apocalyptic collection. We’ll be the movie theater. We’ll be riding our bicycle, powering the generator, charging people, you know, beef jerky, to get in and see it.
What is it like working with your husband on this play?
This play’s already published. So he’s not around that much, but he came in to see the matinee the other day. He’s coming in for notes today. He’s around to try to make it feel as vital and energetic as he wants it to be, because this is a dream of his, too, to have Bug be on Broadway. Even he can’t believe this play is on Broadway. He’s parenting two small children while I’m in the city. So there’s a lot of logistics we have to get into. But we love working together, and we like talking about it. We can be really honest with each other. He gave me a great, great note after the matinee the other day that really helped my evening performance, because he and David have such a good working relationship, too. So, I like having him in the conversation, because he makes me better.
Bug has had several theatrical productions throughout the years, as well as a movie adaptation. What do you think keeps bringing people back to play?
For one thing, whether you like him or not, Tracy’s plays are entertaining. Even when they’re dealing with these themes like mental illness or conspiracy thinking or addiction, they’re funny. Tracy’s plays are always funny, because he believes that if people are laughing, then they’re really listening. And if you’re hitting people over the head with something, it’s just like eating your vegetables, it’s not going to land in the same way. The other things about Tracy’s plays, in particular — I’ve done many of them now — they’re very soundly constructed. And I think if you look over time to what plays get revived, it’s often those that are like well made things, well wrought and they’re satisfying for actors to do, because when the internal construction is very tight, they’re easier to memorize. I just think he’s one of our great American playwrights, and I think those are the plays that will come back, because they’re always going to be speaking to the time we’re in in a new way.
This is about lonely people. There’s an epidemic of loneliness too, because of social media, they’re looking for connection, but more importantly, they’re looking for meaning. And I feel that there’s an emptiness that’s taken over as we’ve moved toward a more secular society, and something will rush to fill that hole. And I think as we see shootings, we see wars, we see suicides, we see conspiracy thinking, xenophobia, that’s what will rush to fill the void when there’s emptiness. And this is asking that question, how are these people finding meaning and purpose in their lives that feel so oppressive and futile? And I think people can relate to that story.
You have a busy TV and film slate now, but do you want to keep theater in the mix?
This is the longest I’ve gone. I couldn’t believe it had been four years. I’ve been pretty good about returning, once the TV and film stuff took off, I think I had gone no more than like two-and-a-half years to get back on stage. So it’s always going to be a home base. I’m a Steppenwolf ensemble member. They’ll have me even when TV and film is through with me. You have to be realistic about how long a career can last. I mean, just the rhythm of Hollywood is different. So I think I’ll always have a home in the theater. There’s always going to be more imagination in the theater for how they can use me. I’m grateful that I have that opportunity and that skill set, and that it’s something that will be hopefully a part of my life forever.
