Misery: “This is So Good, Now Keep it Away”

Misery is a movie I love to death and yet I find myself somewhat avoiding it, actually a lot avoiding it, just because when I think about it I can automatically recall the tension that comes in my body during the viewing of it, it’s absolutely fantastically miserable. There's the great performances in the movie that ultimately takes place in one setting for the most part and really between mostly two actors, and the way that the two work off of each other is almost a whole another piece I could write about in the “Actors POV” section of my blog. But this portion here is just to talk about the scenes I feel this movie does so well, and the way these scenes conjure up tension by giving us a protagonist who actually has what is commonly referred to as a brain, an antagonist who has the unflappable will of a terminator, and a closed setting that settles and unsettles. Also I want to kind of set up with some of my favorite and some of the worst things I see in horror. For example, I'm not as keen as I used to be on downing or judging characters in horror films for making bad decisions under what has to be considerable duress. You know that thing where a character keeps walking towards some strange sound in the night, and you yell “DON'T GO IN THERE!” and in your frustration begin to give up on the movie, because f*** this..Oh that’s just me? New me, I understand or try to understand that many of us on an occasion of meeting with things that do not jive with what we understand to be reality, would act as if that's not what's happening. In other words I’ve never seen anything resembling Freddy Krueger and/or Jason Voorhies and they would be the last things on my mind if things started seeming out of place in a real setting, whereas the audience in a movie is automatically in on the fact that this is a ghost story or story featuring a monster or some other terrible thing or terrible person, and additionally that even being in a movie theater is an agreement upon a break with reality. I have limits though as to how far I'm willing to deal with certain characters shenanigans and stupidity in film and this expresses itself in a very William Hurt “how could you f*** that up way. There's only so many times I can watch a person trip over s*** that ain't there, or put down a weapon after only stunning a person whose seemed nigh unstoppable and immovable in their desire to kill me, or reveal to an antagonist who obviously wants the worst for you and is already in a fragile place that you know what they're up to and you're going to get them when you don't so much as have a piece of broccoli in your hand to fight them with. Something else, (especially as I’ve gotten older I) I think about is the settings, the people, the environment. I like when films take place during the day instead of in the dark. I like when the antagonist is someone who seems charming or wonderful instead of instantly threatening and dastardly, and when the home it may be placed in is warm and inviting rather than dilapidated and rude. It does not mean that it automatically makes a horror films better that these things are there, but that when executed well it heightens the tension and fear to know that the places we normally deem as safe are not as safe as we have previously thought.

The Conjuring Rosemary's Baby The Shining and alien are examples of films that were sent in settings that weren't inherently scary or indicative of the whores that lighting either the places people or things. Shaking up our expectations that evil things are housed only in what looks evil.

In Misery writer William Goldman basically includes all of the above. The movie takes place mostly during the day and in an inviting town under the care of what initially seems like an inviting caring “Good Samaritan”. Much like that morphine Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates) has hooked up to writer Paul Sheldon (James Caan) we slowly start getting drips of clues that reveal Annie is not what she seems until boom the whole thing is open, the artery is spouting blood, and we now know that she's a full-on demon. The town Annie Occupies is small, scenic, You watch a lot of other horror movies you'll see some form of a foreboding entry into a foreboding town in the movie. It might come by way of a gas station attendant who's leering, or a strange sky, or townsfolk like the family and the gas station member we met in Tobe Hooper's “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” ( Drew Goddard's Cabin in the Woods is also a great example of a movie that understands trope exists and then plays on it). These are the kind of sign post alerts that set the tone and put the audience in a mood so that by the time the scares are coming the audience is pretty much already set to jump, shudder, and holler, but in Misery they work harder to make us feel like he’s saved, not doomed, this despite the existence of trailers that told us who Annie was. This is proof that fear and all of its cousins are less about what we see, and more about how we feel. We're introduced to Annie Wilkes as a warm sensitive caring woman who happens to be one of his fans.. Little strange, little lonely, but nothing more, so despite me having seen this movie a million times even I am still somewhat drawn in by Annie original and unique charms, Bates does an uncanny job of playing a character whose evil takes on the same shape as her good. Later we are also introduced to Buster and his wife Virginia who qualify for me as one of the most charming couples in the history of movies besides maybe “Nick and Nora” in the Thin Man. The fact that the captor is sweet and the so too is the town she occupies recalibrates our thinking about the suggestions of where evil lives. That it's not necessarily in the midst of impoverished scenery or amongst disfigured or disabled people, that it can be amongst those who seem absolutely loving, the able bodied, and the status quo, all of whom in fact have a great deal of rage and evil hiding inside them.

There are two types of protagonist in horror movies I abhor on opposite sides of a spectrum, type A. is the type of protagonist in horror films who as far as I’m concerned lives or find themselves alive at the end almost completely by will of the pen, they win despite themselves, as if basically they had no business living if it were any truth to the matter but a deal was struck that guaranteed them life as a protagonist, so the bumbling idiot who has been warned by the house and seen various incarnations of the ghost or the monster doesn't die even though they continually go walking into the closet after they saw the little doll hop up off the shelf and “Jesse Owens” their way into the closet cackling and whispering to them “Come here I want to play” (clearly I’m not over this particular trauma). The other type is the person who either through forms of intelligence, feats of athleticism (pulling the martial arts out of their ass) or things that just don't click with everything that we've been told about them, survive damage that would irreparably harm them, or do things that just cant even be explained. So that character X who appeared in the last scene being stabbed into a human cheese grating block will now appear to save the day, even though they should’ve bled out in five minutes. As it were Paul in Misery is my favorite type of protagonist, dead center of the spectrum. Resourceful , witty, but fallible. Every single bit of tension in this movie, every time we are held in suspense or clenching our seat it is due to the obstacles that Paul as a normal human being has to try and overcome. The film thoughtfully considers that he is foreign to his surroundings and on top of that temporarily disabled. Annie Wilkes is a great foil opposite Paul because she is an unmovable force, and though the movie suggest Annie may not be the most intelligent in a “classic” sense many of us have been typically raised to view it, she is clearly intelligent, intelligent enough to think of a number of variations on how Paul might escape and to deceive others quite adeptly. Paul too is a thinker, but not one that seems unbelievable. He wants out, but is also not so drunk with the idea of getting out of there that he starts stumbling and tripping over himself to get to his destination, alerting Annie to exactly what it is he wants. I love every scene (and the way James Caan expresses this) where Paul attempts to appease Annie Wilkes and to be friendly and on board with all of her mess, it feels spot on as to how you might overdo it a little in order to cover immense hate or dislike for a person who is your captor. Once he sees what Annie is about, or notes her triggers, he tries to sidestep or become avoidant, rather than to keep marching through them, but he's a perfectly imperfect at this and because Annie is imperfectly unbalanced (as obviously played to the absolute hilt by Kathy Bates) even when he's not trying he still accidentally lands on a mine which makes it believable. Around the third act Paul begins to hide away the pills that he suspects that she is drugging him, smart but not too “No Way” smart. He later sends her off on an errand to get the exact type of paper he loves, ( I’m still not sure whether this was a lie or thinking on his feet because it all fits in with what we have previously been told about Paul's very detail-oriented routine ) Annie has been so eager to please as it concerns his writing process this seems brilliant and infallible, and yet it it sets off one of Annie’s mines leaving an unsuspecting Paul with one of those “Necronomicon”thick books dropped on his still very tender legs. This is another vital aspect of the tension set up. Annie’s hair trigger emotional status. It is setup very early, that things that set Annie off don’t have to be connected to any theme. Its not the horror or thriller protagonist where if you tell them you’re not scared, or talk shit about their mama you’re going to get a reaction. Annie might get mad about cursing, or the appropriate name for trailers, it’s very much like being in an abusive relationship. All of this sets up maybe the most tension oriented scene in the film where a bobby pin that Caan's Paul has stowed away (again thinking on his feet) is now used to open the door so that he can somewhat explore the house and see if he can find himself some sort of defense against this woman or call out for help. The lengths that Annie has gone to make sure that no one can interfere with her plans, become even more evident here and we see how well thought out this was. As Paul's options are lessened so are ours. Then we are also introduced to a sort of “ticking clock” scenario where we know that Paul has a limited time do this, by way of cuts to show us exactly where Annie is at on her trip. The fact that he is disabled is not merely for effect, but it does have an effect as an obstacle to help intensify the tension in our minds due to the fact that we know any place he goes into this house its going to be hard for him to get back to that room in time if Annie shows up, (especially if he doesn't hear her) that is intensified to yet another level when his wheelchair can no longer fit through the door and we see that he now has to get up out of his chair and crawl over to pick himself up a knife, and at the exact time, the moment he secures it, we hear a car pull up and I wish I would have been in the theater to see this because I would have gathered that there might have been a collective gasp in the theater the moment those wheels were tracking up and we come to see Annie now getting out of the car knowing that this man has to get back in that chair and move all the way back to that room. I've seen that movie a million times and it still causes my heart the climb ladder 49 straight up into my throat every time I see it.

The power of Misery, the part of that dances up and down all over my nerves as a horror movie as well as a thriller, is the way it narrows the walls, gates, roads until the only way out is through. Paul being a clever protagonist who tries to outsmart Annie and eventually realizes he just has to play through her game, makes it so we don’t get to feel safe by knowing we have the answer to his freedom. Most things we might’ve thought of or considered he did, and beyond. We are left with only the face off. Who will come out? We don’t know til the end, and it’s an end that comes by way of a lot of suffering, that comes by way of nothing else but what some may refer too as just plain bad luck. If there was an insurance claim on Misery's type of horror almost none of us are covered, it’s an “Act of God”, and I always hate those. It’s why avoid this movie, and fall in love every time I watch it, it’s that horrifying to me, and its that good.