Misery loves company, so the old saying goes, but with the Alley Theatre’s Summer Chills production, it’s more likely that companies and crowds will love “Misery.” This stage adaptation of Stephen King’s 1987 novel about a car-wrecked novelist in the hands of his number one fan keeps eyeballs glued to the stage as Annie Wilkes initially takes care of her favorite author, Paul Sheldon, before torturing him to get the books she wants.
As adapted by Academy Award winning writer William Goldman, this script lets audiences see Annie devolve into possessive insanity as Paul, while trying to heal from serious fractures, awakens to the danger he is in — first as a novelist denied the right to develop beyond Romance fiction and then as man trying to stay alive.
But what makes the plot particularly interesting is its exploration of the writer’s relationship to his readers. What does he owe to the people who have financed and enabled his career? What do readers owe the writers of the works they read? After Annie relates to Paul in the opening scene how she has pulled him from a snow-bound Colorado mountain wreck, she tells him, “Nothing bad can happen to you here…. I’m your number one fan.” In a work from Steven King’s imagination, that’s the first warning and as good — make that sane — as it gets, especially when “here” is Annie’s stunted emotional life haunted by rejection and limitations.
Fans of King’s book or of Rob Reiner’s 1990 film may wonder what’s new here, and while there are a few altered details, the answer lies less in the plot than in theater’s ability to place audiences in the presence of these haunted, pained, and dangerous individuals. The safe separation of the page and the screen vanish, replaced by the immediacy of the stage’s edge just a few feet away.
Director Brandon Weinbrenner stresses the intensity of the threats and ties the action close to the audience. When one character is hit by a shotgun blast, his body almost lands in the laps of the front row, and after the unforgettable hobbling scene involving a hefty sledgehammer, the victim’s bloody sheets are plainly visible. Yet Weinbrenner keeps the horrors on a leash by balancing violence with humor — particularly the mundaneness of Annie’s home: her kitchen table I recognize from my mother’s house, the frilly curtains from a few generations ago.
Stage designer Tim Mackabee deserves major credit here, making excellent use of the Alley’s rotating stage to offer three sets for Annie’s house: the bedroom where her “guest” is kept, her kitchen where Paul attempts to seduce his way to an escape, and a front porch where she keeps the local sheriff at bay. Audiences aren’t bowled over by any of these per se but rather by their aptness to the situation and the characters. Meanwhile, Seth Reiser’s lighting that ranges from comfy early mornings to shattering nighttime lightning adds to the balance and the tension building to key moments in the action.
But it is the actors — Elizabeth Bunch as Annie Wilkes and Chris Hutchison as Paul Sheldon — who shoulder the burden of making their opposing characters and the violent plot believable. Lesser performances could have made these star-crossed figures cartoonish. Hutchison is convincing not just at showing Paul’s pain from his injuries but also at suggesting his writer’s mind for plotting and for exploring his own depths. Bunch plays Annie as a fragile soul in a strong body, just as tortured by her imagination as Paul is overflowing with his. She’s comic without being ridiculous, and Bunch ensures that her Annie is, if not sympathetic, never one-dimensional.
Underlying it all, the magic of King’s basic premise and his playfulness with language shines through. The words dance with irony and double meanings, beginning with the name of the character who has brought Paul fame and Annie an ideal heroine: Misery. This is what a benign romance figure has become for Paul her creator and what she brings to Annie, her greatest admirer. But then misery stokes the engine of countless art works that provide readers and audiences all the pleasure they can absorb.
Dive into the Alley’s “Misery.” You’ll drown in its chilling delights.
“Misery” is on stage at Houston’s Alley Theatre through June 28.
Robert Donahoo is a professor at Sam Houston State University and writes theater reviews.