“I AM THE SUPER MOTHER-BUG !!!”

- a pivotal eureka moment, preceding a fiery union of sorts

After a long absence from good horror – yes The Guardian (1990) was kind of fun, but a killer druidic tree is still a ridiculous concept for a straight-faced shocker – William Friedkin emerged from hibernation in 2006 with this adaptation of Tracy Letts' stage play about collective paranoia.

Sold as a horror film in the original theatrical trailer, the campaign teased people about the possibility of creepy crawlies burrowing inside human tissue and causing much bloodshed, but the actual film is more of a psychological thriller; this doesn't give away any secrets, but ‘psychological' clarifiers what Bug is: a movie about one person's abilities to ensnare another into his own delusions, taking both down a path of mental and physical destruction.

Because it's not a straight horror film, Friedkin doesn't have to worry about conjuring visual scares to keep people twitchy, and he's freely able to concentrate on getting his actors to deliver some very striking performances, including Michael Shannon, who played the viral stranger in the original stage play. Shannon's's delivery is very restrained, making his transformation from mild-mannered to deranged in the final act all the more visceral.

Just as memorable is Harry Connick Jr., who offers a strangely sympathetic interpretation of a wife-beating ex-con who shares a tragic past with emotionally traumatized Ashley Judd, and Lynn Collins, playing Judd's only friend who's ultimately forced to step away when she realizes her best friend is unwilling to deal with her lover's serious delusions.

Letts' play does keep us wondering whether there's some truth to Shannon's's paranoia, given he suffers a scarring from an alleged case of bed bugs and aphids, and while the nihilistic finale does confirm some level of reality, director Friedkin keeps the film off-center, ensuring some viewers may suspect the whole tale is an invention, a fable, or a looped replay of one person's trauma.

Maple's DVD includes a number of important extras, although William Friedkin's commentary is a complete disaster. It's not the fault of the label; as with a few releases like The Exorcist (The Version You've Never Seen, aka the Unnecessary Revisionist Blatty Indulgence), Friedkin has chosen to simply sit back and literally describe the scenes and characters as they happen in the most banal fashion (see ratethatcommentary.com for a selection of opinions); he may not have intended to bore viewers into eye-scratching fury, but his delivery is deadly slow, as if aimed at mental patients who need simple words spoon-fed while under serious anti-psychotic poppers.

(In a recent interview with French online magazine www.dvddrama.com regarding a planned special edition DVD for his classic Sorcerer (1977), Friedkin admits [translated from French by KQEK.com] “I'll be doing a commentary for the release, even though I don't enjoy the exercise. I don't like it when I'm told what to watch or listen to while watching the film. I find films can stand on their own, and don't need commentaries. But for the good of it, if it's necessary, I'll do it.” Hopefully Friedkin will listen to Laurent Bouzereau and follow the DVD producer's lead to talk about what's of interest and of historical importance.)

Bug's remaining extras more than make up for the deadly-dull commentary, although what's still missing are finer details on the original play, its author/actor, and some production minutia, including details on Brian Tyler's score, which seems to have been pared down in the final mix. (Most of the weirdly brilliant cues are preserved on the soundtrack album, which is worth tracking down.)

The making-of featurette goes a bit above the usual EPK format of on-set cast/crew interviews and film clips, and Friedkin talks about what attracted him to the play, how he shot the film in sequence, and the play's hard tonal shifts.

More intriguing is a long director interview, which is far broader than the DVD's producer and interviewer probably intended. Now 72, Friedkin looks ten years younger, and Bug, likely to be regarded by some as a lesser film, is really one of his best. It's a shame there's no discussion of technique, as Bug has the director returning to his use of zoom lenses, tracking shots, and gorgeous visuals that recall the style and explosive colours of To Live and Die in L.A. (minus the eighties décor).

Just as notable is Friedkin's use of sound, which has evokes the disjointed cuts, volume drops, and hard hits found in Jean-Luc Godard's work. Whether it's C.A.T. Squad (1986) or The French Connection (1971), Friedkin doesn't employ score and sound effects in a straightforward manor; cues aren't allowed to begin or resolve themselves in complete form, and sound is either discreet, or brutally heightened to shock, as with the melodically whiny air conditioner in Bug.

Fans of the director will appreciate what's more of a conversation with about career aspects, and in place of Bug (which barely gets any mention in the discussion), there's material on Friedkin's filmic output (basically every 2-3 years), his retentive demands of theatrical sound reproduction that had him bugging projectionists during the first months of The Exorcist's first theatrical run, directing opera on stage (!), favourite themes, and Ruminations of an Old Fart (which consists of many ‘when I started out' and ‘when we were making films') and is informative and fun, as the director compares the independent movement of the seventies with today's more liberal filmmaking techniques and diverse techincal options.

Other films touched upon are The French Connection, and what's rightly been reassessed as an underrated mini-masterpiece, Sorcerer. (Flawed as it is, and indulgent as it was, the bridge crossing sequence remains one of the most gripping ever committed to film.)

Maple's transfer is first-rate, and the sound mix is suitably dynamic, mandating a loud playback to get chills from hard sound cuts, and eerie, discreet sound design. Commentary excepted, it's a well-produced release, and the meaty interview makes up for the commentary's emptiness. The interviewed Friedkin clearly expresses himself as a filmmaker who embraces the evolution of his craft, and regards the changes in editing, pacing, and use of digital technologies as a natural stepping stone of an art form, which Bug, as part of Friedkin's canon, also signifies.

© 2007 Mark R. Hasan