Misery, William Goldman’s theatrical adaptation of his screenplay of the Stephen King novel, is not the most unavoidably static script ever. Samuel Beckett’s Happy Days, for example, is a two-hander in which the only speaking character is buried in a mound of dirt (up to her waist in Act 1, to her neck in Act 2).
But with its protagonist bedridden for most of the play, Misery is perforce pretty damn static. Even once he heals enough to get in a wheelchair, the action rarely strays outside of the room he’s occupied for the duration. And whereas film can break up such stasis with tricks of the trade (editing, camera movement, frame composition), on stage we’re stuck with it. This makes Misery a tough nut to crack.
Nevertheless, the Garage Theatre is giving it a try despite their limited resources.
One of the reasons, no doubt, is the juiciness of the role of Annie, romance novelist Paul Sheldon’s lifesaver/jailer and (as she loves to proclaim) “#1 fan.” She’s wicked nuts, vacillating between a timorous frump who can’t bear to swear (“cockadoodie” is her go-to) and an entitled, lunatic sadist. Fortunately, Jade Yancosky is effective at both ends of the spectrum, generating enough rage when needed to make you flinch.
Other aspects of Misery don’t come off quite as well. Although Rory Cowan is steady as the man in the middle of a living nightmare, on opening night he failed to keep track of his physical condition at any given time — for example, using his arm relatively freely with little or no apparent pain when just a minute earlier the slightest move was minor agony. At one point Annie pours lighter fluid all over his lap, but he evinces no fear of burning himself up when she compels him to light a match.
A few other details slip between the cracks. It seems sometimes Annie locks Paul in the bedroom, sometimes she doesn’t — although we can’t be sure, because sometimes the lock makes a noise (inserted into the piped-in sound design, so there’s no question that we’re supposed to hear it), sometimes it doesn’t. Having thunderclaps lag behind their lightning flashes (as most always happens in real life but rarely on stage) is a nice touch, yet some thunderclaps of the same volume come without any lightning at all.
But the biggest problems with this Misery come during the climactic scenes. If there’s one thing everyone knows from the film — and goes into the play anticipating — it’s the hobbling. Unfortunately, what the Garage musters is simply too taxing on our suspension of disbelief. Similarly, in staging the final battle between Paul and Annie, director Cat Elrod hasn’t come up with an effective way to get around the Garage’s limitations.
The mise en scène is a mixed bag. Robert Young’s set design is credible (it fucking better be in a show tied so tightly to a specific space) and nicely dressed. Although the inter-scene music works, the movie-like scoring of a couple of scenes falls flat.
Yes, there are shortcomings in the Garage Theatre’s Misery; but to be fair, I’m not sure any production could make me think a stage adaptation was a good idea in the first place.
Misery at the Garage Theatre
Times: Thursday–Saturday 8:00 p.m.
The show runs through August 12.
Cost: $18–$25 (Thursdays 2-for-1); closing night w/afterparty: $30
Details: thegaragetheatre.org
Venue: The Garage Theatre, 251 E. 7th St., Long Beach