It was a dark and stormy night just outside Silver Creek, Colorado. In the winter of 1987, a car goes off the road, severely injuring Paul Sheldon, the writer of a series of novels about the trials and tribulations of his heroine, Misery. As luck would have it, he’s rescued by one Annie Wilkes, a former nurse, who takes him to her home, tends to his wounds, and puts him to bed. When he awakens after four days, Annie announces “I’m your biggest fan,” and assures him that she knows all 8 of the “Misery” books by heart. Sounds pretty good, until Annie confesses she’s actually been keeping very close tabs on Paul while he’s been writing his latest novel in a nearby inn. She found him in the snow because she’s been stalking him.
Annie seems eccentric, but when she reads Paul’s latest opus, she suddenly shows a deeper and creepier side. That Paul has written not another “Misery” novel, but rather a book based on his own life, is bad enough. What drives Annie over the edge is all the “f” words he’s included. She’s furious, and deeply disappointed; she leaves, and tells Paul he’ll be lucky if she ever comes back. If she doesn’t, he’ll die. Paul realizes he’s in the hands of a crazy woman, and that he must escape by any means possible. Those who have seen the 1990 movie, or read Stephen King’s 1987 thriller, will know what happens next. Even theatergoers who have no knowledge of what’s to come can figure out things will go from bad to worse.
Kathy Bates won an Oscar for playing Annie on screen, and if there’s any justice, Laurie Metcalf should at least get a Tony nod for her work here. She’s a much more sympathetic Annie Wilkes, gentler and more pathetic; our hearts go out to her, and somewhere along the line, there’s even a vague hope that she and Paul can have a brief moment of real affection. Metcalf hits all the notes, from giggling schoolgirl to weeping acolyte to furious harridan. Annie lives in her own world, and Paul disappointing her shatters her personal sense of reality. The audience laughs throughout the production, largely because Paul, as played by Willis, never really engages with Annie. He definitely seems physically tortured when it’s appropriate, but never really loses his composure. The ending suggests that Annie Wilkes has had more of an effect on him than he realizes; it would have been gratifying to see a foreshadowing of this. But the stoicism Willis exhibits brings up a fascinating possibility. Did any of what we’ve seen really happen, or is the novelist just drumming up publicity for his latest book? Has he concocted a more intriguing scenario for his injuries than just skidding off an icy road? Is Annie Wilkes as much a figment of his imagination as he was of hers? The sets, by David Korins, add greatly to the air of mystery. The turntable which reveals in turn the entrance way, the bedroom, and the kitchen/stairway makes everything seem off kilter. There are perfect little touches throughout. Pictures of Paul, most like from magazines, have been framed to look like family photos. Annie has told the author about a traumatic marriage and divorce; look closely, and hanging on the wall is a portrait of a young woman in a white wedding dress. Next to her is the groom--with his face carefully cut out of the picture. Did director Will Frears intend this production to be a comedy as much as a drama? Impossible to say, but many in the audience laughed throughout. This provided, no doubt, a fun evening for them but one that left others wondering what happened to the horror which is so much of the kick of reading Stephen King. Entertaining for some, but nowhere near dark and stormy enough for those who were expecting a thrilling ride filled with terror.
