In Misery, Stephen King’s nausea-inducing novel is brought to life by the tenacity of Kathy Bates’s performance and Rob Reiner’s impeccable thriller turn (and second King adaptation!). The first time I had watched Misery, it was after reading the absolutely sickening, terrifying novel. And though the 1990 film did not commit to the same levels of mutilation, the film proved to be equally intense and thrilling, even from the comfort of my well-lit living room.
Misery follows rather isolated writer Paul Sheldon (James Caan), known for his extremely popular romance novel series following a beloved character named Misery Chastain. Unbeknownst to him, superfan Annie Wilkes (Bates) has chosen to live in a cabin near the hotel he always goes to write at (sounding slightly familiar here, Stephen!). Sheldon gets into a car crash and is rescued by Wilkes, who professes how much she loves him, as well as Misery. Annie is determined to help him recover, however long that may take, so long as he continues to churn out more Misery Chastain books.
The droning, intoxicating wintertime environment houses insanity here, instead of helping to cultivate it, as in The Shining. Annie is the same character from the second we meet her, and Sheldon’s journey is the one that is traumatic; his life is the one that truly changes. His aftermath is more melancholic than destructive, haunted by the trauma of fans, desperate now only to reclaim his life.
Though some choices appear cheesy now, Rob Reiner’s direction is incredibly effective, squeezing heart-pounding tension out of every minute of a sequence. No small detail surpasses Wilkes’s watchful eye, from the locations of small trinkets to single hairs snapped from opening an old book, and Reiner’s gaze follows the same way. My hands sweat as Sheldon struggles to navigate back to his bed, clamoring in pain and stress as Wilkes grows closer to discovering his attempts to escape.
Kathy Bates is so unflinchingly devilish here that her performance earned the only Oscar ever won for a Stephen King adaptation. More underrated in the film, but just as exquisite, is James Caan, striving for both his physical freedom as well as creative agency over his works. He’s finally killed off Misery Chastain in the most recent installment of her series, instead focusing on such more serious works as his newly finished manuscript Fast Cars. Wilkes, unfortunately, will have none of it, reaching towards violence as a means to get the ending she wants for her beloved Misery Chastain.
Wilkes’s desires are comical and slightly relatable, primarily with fans of TV shows joking about doing the same to the showrunner to get the ending they hope for. It’s true that there is a fangirl in all of us. What we lack, however, is Wilkes’s predisposition to violence and history of murder at the hands of the helpless. In true King fashion she is an unexplainable villain, human only in the physical form, her insanity beyond reproach. The source material of Misery is a masterwork of the simplest of terrors – confinement and helplessness. Here, King does not need supernatural monsters from other planes of reality, all he puts together is a desperate, helpless man and a dangerous superfan.
Misery
1990
dir. Rob Reiner
107 min.
Screens (on 35mm!) Thursday, 6/15, 9:45pm @ Somerville Theatre
Double feature w/ Thief (screening @ 7:30, also on 35mm)
Part of the ongoing series: Two-For-Thursdays
