"I watched 'Bugonia’ and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."

Last week, I received free tickets to a screening of Yorgos Lanthimos’s Bugonia (2025). Before I begin, let the record show that I am not Lanthimos’s biggest fan. I saw Poor Things (2023) in theaters after being told, “It’s the better version of Barbie,” only to be thoroughly disappointed. I started and neglected to finish Kinds of Kindness (2024) because I got bored. However, the logline of Bugonia caught my attention, and I’ll see anything once if it’s free. 

Bugonia tells the story of two cousins who kidnap a pharmaceuticals CEO (Emma Stone) because they think she’s an alien. I assumed from the logline and the trailer that the film was a commentary on conspiracy theories and social media echo chambers. Reading this was almost a breath of fresh air because, finally, someone was going to make a meaningful piece of media about the issue. I say almost because, bear in mind, this is still Yorgos Lanthimos.

Imagine my surprise when I thoroughly enjoyed the first and second acts of the film. As an avid Lanthimos hater, it hurt me to admit. 

The first two acts introduce us to two complicated protagonists. Teddy (Jesse Plemons) reels in the death of his mother, which he blames—rightfully so—on CEO Michelle Fuller. Neither Stone nor Plemons’s characters are particularly likable for the first act. Plemons is a crazed conspiracy theorist, and Stone is a merciless dictator. However, once their paths intersect, we begin to see different, more desperate sides of both characters as they’re provoked by their escalating circumstances. Bugonia isn’t a black-and-white portrayal of conspiracies. In different ways, both characters are victims; audiences might be more inclined to root for one over the other based on their experiences. 

Lanthimos never reveals whether or not Teddy’s alien theory is true or false. The viewer is left to ascertain such things for themselves. As a more practical person, I interpreted the film to be realistic fiction rather than speculative. Maybe most of this was a projection. I wanted to see a film address the compacted nature of social media conspiracy, so I inserted that narrative into the story.  

But you might be asking yourself, “What does this have to do with Pizzagate?” 

For those of you who are unfamiliar, “Pizzagate” is the name given to a viral conspiracy theory back in 2016. Right-wing politicians spurred rumors that a pizzeria in Washington, D.C. was a front for a child trafficking ring. Despite no evidence to support the claim, this information was heavily circulated in conservative social media echo chambers. Unfortunately, the spread of misinformation resulted in an armed shooter driving across state lines to storm the pizzeria, demanding the owners hand over their captive children. He never fired the gun. The police apprehended him. Spoiler alert: there weren’t any children in the pizzeria’s basement.

Pizzagate is the perfect poster child of weaponized conspiracy theories. Though, from what I’ve seen, modern media hasn’t commented on this. If I’m wrong, please pass good suggestions my way. All to say that Bugonia had an opportunity to make an impactful statement about current events in a way that other films had failed to. So, yes, the first 75% of the film really hooked me. I was eager to hit Letterboxd and issue my public apology to Lanthimos. 

Until the third act began. If you’re interested in seeing the film, now would be a good time to tap out. I will be spoiling the ending. 

At the end of the second act, Fuller finds out that Teddy has been murdering and experimenting on people he perceives to be “aliens.” The audience leans to Fuller’s side (given Teddy is now a mass murderer). Fuller manipulates Teddy into following her to her office where he will be teleported to her alien spacecraft. She tells him the closet in her office is a teleporter, and if he locks himself inside, she’ll send him into space. I perceived this to be her desperate attempt to break free from her kidnapper. For a glorious moment, I was proven right: she was human after all. Then, Teddy rigs a homemade bomb to his chest as a precaution and winds up accidentally blowing himself up. Huzzah! Let the credits roll. 

At this point, the movie has made an impactful statement about the circulation of conspiracy theories. They target lonely, desperate people through social media and weaponize those who need help the most. Teddy was so hungry for someone to blame that he convinced himself these theories were facts—much like the Pizzagate shooter. Both Teddy and the shooter were manipulated by social media. Their intentions were in the right place—saving the world from perceived evil—but their actions were largely misguided. 

But what would have happened if that man had found a secret child trafficking ring in a pizzeria basement? 

If you ask me, this is a question no one needs answered. It’s unproductive to even try. To answer it is to entertain the thought that these wild conspiracies have merit. Those who subscribe to them aren’t villains, but they shouldn’t be represented as heroes or martyrs, either. By doing so, we can provoke those who believe such things to act on them. So, to me, approaching the question above in such a light is dangerous. 

Lanthimos, either to maximize shock factor or appear edgy, disagrees. And this is where the film lost me. 

After Teddy dies, Fuller is rushed to the hospital to tend to her injuries after being caught in the crossfire of Teddy’s homemade bomb. Fuller escapes the ambulance and makes a beeline to her office. And, you guessed it, steps into the closet and teleports herself away to her spacecraft. 

For the next twenty minutes, we watch as Fuller, now a confirmed alien, convenes with her comrades and decides humanity has failed. The last five minutes of the movie is a flat dramatic montage of all of humanity lying dead. 

Lanthimos infamously injects shock-factor twists into the third act of his films, but I was so invested in Bugonia that I rejected the idea. By this time, I was mentally and physically checked out. My butt hurt. 

There’s a difference between glorifying and humanizing an antihero. Lanthimos does a stellar job of the latter in the first 75% of the film. We learn about Teddy’s family situation and how he lost his mother. We learn that he was abused by everyone who was meant to care for him. Plemons’s performance seals the deal in making the audience care for the character—a bit against their will. Lanthimos gave us a window into the soul of Teddy. A caricature, sure, but the symbol of a very real kind of person. We might not justify Teddy’s actions, but we can understand both his motivations and the larger implications: what drives people into these echo chambers, and how can we prevent this? 

But the final act of the film scrambles this message and exchanges it for a more shocking, sensationalist view. If only the world had listened to the crazed conspiracy theorist, humanity would have survived. Lanthimos encourages us to reassess the people who subscribe to these ideas. What if that man had stormed a D.C. pizzeria and found a secret child trafficking ring? I don’t have an answer, and I don’t particularly care to find one. He didn’t find what he sought. To entertain another idea is to descend down a dark slippery slope.