(L-R) Riz Ahmed and Guz Khan attend the “Bait” Premiere during the 2026 Sundance Film Festival at Library Center Theatre on January 22, 2026 in Park City, Utah. (Photo by Dia Dipasupil/Getty Images)
By Adam Silverstein
By the time Riz Ahmed walks onstage at the Library Center Theatre, the room is already humming. It’s the first night of the 2026 Sundance Film Festival, the seats are packed tight, and there’s a low, anticipatory buzz that suggests people didn’t just wander into this one. The Festival is premiering the first three episodes of BAIT, an episodic debut from Ahmed that lands somewhere between industry satire, cultural pressure-cooker, and very funny self-exorcism.
Ahmed keeps the introduction light. He thanks the Festival for sticking with him over the years — his first acting job in America came through the Sundance Institute’s Labs — and jokes about the Festival’s upcoming move from Park City. “Please come next year,” he says. “We’ll be in Greenland.” Laughter ripples through the room. He adds, almost offhandedly, that making BAIT felt “more fun to do than therapy.” Then the lights go down, and the show wastes no time proving his point.
Set in London, BAIT stars Ahmed as Shah Latif, a struggling actor whose career has stalled so badly that anonymity has become its own running gag. He’s even mistaken on the street for Dev Patel. His father, unimpressed and unfiltered, tells him, “I watch TV all day — you’re never on it.” The audience loses it. The laughs come early and often, sharp and slightly painful in that way that feels earned.
Shah was once a rising star. Now he’s auditioning desperately, clinging to relevance, and convincing himself he’s still in control. Everything spirals when he auditions for James Bond — a role that detonates a very online backlash. Suddenly Shah is fielding hate, think pieces, and threats. He brings in security. BAIT doesn’t soften any of this. Instead, it skewers the culture wars with precision, exposing how quickly identity becomes spectacle and how merciless public discourse can be when it decides you’re a symbol instead of a person.
What’s striking is how specifically British the show feels. The humor is dry, quick, and cutting, grounded in awkward pauses and brutal one-liners. There’s a rival Bond contender — another British-Asian actor — and the competition between them is petty and resentful. Guz Khan plays Shah’s cousin, protective and hapless in equal measure, adding warmth and chaos in exactly the right doses.
The audience is fully with it — laughter breaks out constantly, sometimes before the punchlines even land. Ahmed plays Shah as both painfully self-aware and spectacularly delusional, someone who knows the system is absurd but still desperately wants to win within it. The balance is tricky, but BAIT pulls it off, blending cringe comedy with something sharper and more personal underneath.
During the post-premiere Q&A, Ahmed opens up about how close to home the series hits. He says much of it is drawn from his own experiences. “This is a documentary,” he jokes. He talks about working with producer Ben Karlin (Modern Family), crediting him with helping shape the show’s confidence and tone. “If it’s messy and honest and a little bit scary to share,” Ahmed says, “you’re probably on the right track.”
Asked, inevitably, whether this is a stealth James Bond audition, Ahmed smiles. “Tune in for the next episode,” he says.
All six episodes of BAIT hit Amazon Prime on March 25, but inside the Library Center Theatre, it’s already landed.
