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TIME: Almanac 1993
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TIME Almanac 1993.iso
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121090
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1210420.000
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1992-08-28
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CINEMA, Page 87A Deadly Game of Nursing Care
MISERY
Directed by Rob Reiner
Screenplay by William Goldman
You are a reasonably healthy citizen of this world, used to
going your own way and having your own way. Suddenly an
accident immobilizes you in bed. There is almost nothing you
can do for yourself. All of us have at least briefly tasted the
anxiety of this situation, so we can sympathize with romance
novelist Paul Sheldon (James Caan), flat on his back with two
broken legs, a broken arm and multiple cuts and contusions,
products of a car accident on a slippery mountain road during
a blizzard.
We can also understand why, as his mind begins to clear, he
begins to wonder about the quality of his nursing care. Most
of us have been there too, realizing we are utterly dependent
upon the kindness of strangers. What do we really know about
them? What if their kindness hides a crueler agenda? Take Annie
Wilkes (Kathy Bates), for example. She seems a typical nursing
type -- cheerful and bustling. But there is something, well,
menacing about her size, her startling outbursts of bad temper
and her excessive enthusiasm for Misery Chastain, heroine of
the series of bodice rippers Sheldon has been turning out for
years.
It is the business of the best modern horror movies -- and
Misery is definitely one of the best -- to convert such
commonplace anxieties, smoothly and plausibly, into deliciously
prolonged worst-case scenarios. Almost casually, we learn there
was nothing accidental about Annie's being there to rescue Paul
after his accident; she had been stalking him as he finished
a new book at a neighboring resort. Gradually, it dawns on us
that she is never going to surrender him to a hospital. She is
going to keep him in her isolated house -- no phones, no
visitors, just her special, suffocating brand of TLC.
This consists of flattery, flirtatiousness and rigorously
enforced literary standards. Discovering that the manuscript
Paul is carrying is not about Misery and contains cusswords
besides, she forces him to burn it. Learning that his latest
Misery novel will be the last (he has killed her off), Annie
forces Paul to write a new one, rescuing her beloved character
from the grave. Finding that Paul has tried to escape this
task, she sweetly explains she is obliged to rebreak his legs
and does so as calmly as if she were administering aspirin.
Bates' performance is simply spectacular. She can accelerate
from simpering girlishness to looming monstrosity with
head-spinning -- possibly Oscar-winning -- speed. Caan partners
her with edgy smarts, and their deadly game does something more
than pit temporary weakness against sociopathic passion. It
also places ironic literary intelligence in conflict with the
whacked-out innocence of fandom, and has a smart subtext of
class warfare about it too. The actors are supported by the
best kind of writerly craft and directorial technique, the kind
that refuses to call attention to itself, never gets caught
straining for scares or laughs. Popular moviemaking --
elegantly economical, artlessly artful -- doesn't get much
better than this.
By Richard Schickel.