Bug, Viking Theatre

In the age of the internet and Donald Trump's presidential campaign, ideas such as paranoia, delusions and disillusion, along with a few conspiracy theories, do not seem out of place in 2016. This is no mean feat, considering Tracy Letts' play, Bug, about an infested, seedy motel room, was written in 1996, when The X-Files was a hit TV show. Such themes, it could be argued, were a sign of the times. Today, the signs are similar, if more sinister. 

Agnes lives alone in a seedy, rundown motel room, and it is a real snippet of Americana from designer Andrew Murray. Agnes works as a cocktail waitress alongside her lesbian biker friend, R.C., who introduces her to Peter Evans, a Gulf War Veteran who may or may not have something to hide. His slow delivery is reminiscent of Forest Gump to begin with, but he also has an unblinking stare and gives off that feeling of not belonging. His dress is a simple shirt, shoes and trousers. The fact that the trousers are too short for him, a gap between the length and the shoes, is a great characterisation touch; this is a man who is perhaps trying to belong and can't pull it off, or maybe he doesn't want to. Or doesn't care. All of this is conveyed excellently and with great control in a central and impeccable performance by Rex Ryan, while also bringing a darker edge to the character, especially as the infestation takes hold. 

Agnes, on the other hand, is all twitches and uncertainty, played well by Mary Murray, and a good foil to Ryan's Evans. Her pain and loneliness showing, and wanting things to be right is part of her make up, happily enjoying the flattering things Evan's says to her. And why not, after all her early paroled ex-husband, Jerry Goss (Edwin Mullane), turns up, reminding us in his mimicking of Evans how unthreatening he looks. He is the kind of waster who tries to be nice, but if he doesn't get what he wants resorts to violence and abuse. R.C (Toni O'Rourke) is tougher, her concern for Agnes obvious, but when it comes down to the wire, who will Agnes believe?  Or what will she want to believe. 

Dark comedies are tough to pull off, but this one works well, helped by the acting and the taut atmosphere created by the Viking Theatre's company in residence, The Corps Ensemble. Letts's script moves from dark to light well, blending the two finely, in this claustrophobic setting - a place where people should be transient, rather than permanent. Maybe it is to highlight that sometimes on our journey, we can get stuck in the one place for whatever reason. The character's reasons here are various, if not always noble, or reasoned. Trying to reach higher is not always the order of the day for them. 

This is a well put together and executed production, although the first act is more satisfying than the second, but the energy never lags, nor does the tension. It is funny, thoughtful and at times uncomfortable, and does make you wonder 'how do people believe such things?'. Maybe it's because they want to, or need to, and facts become less of a stubborn thing than they should be. The Corps Ensemble are about taking risks, stretching themselves, and the fact is that here they do resulting in an interesting and engaging night out at the theatre.