MCT's "Misery" is an Exceptional Nightmare

How long can you hold your breath in fear. . . in anguish. . . in anticipation of what will happen next?

As I rushed out into the chilly November evening after a performance of Milwaukee Chamber Theatre’s current play Misery, gasping for air as my clenched body tried to relax and my lungs struggled to fully re-expand, I realized I can hold my breath 100 minutes – exactly the runtime of this show. And probably not a second more.

Playing at the Broadway Theatre Center’s Studio Theatre through December 18, Misery is a small cast, psychological thriller based on Stephen King’s novel of the same name. Through a series of (mostly) two-person scenes, it takes audiences on a taut, terrifying journey into the twisted psyche of a superfan who has saved the life of a romance author she idolizes – only to keep him captive until he writes the book that she most wants to read. For those who love Stephen King stories any time of year and in any medium, or those who graduated from Disney’s Haunted Mansion long ago, or audiences who want to be confronted with something more frightful than the Ghost of Christmas Future, this is the unorthodox programming choice you were looking for – done extraordinarily well. With a set by Lisa Schlenker that oozes eerieness; lots of thunder claps, creaks and ominous bumps in the night injected by sound designer Josh Schmidt; spell-binding performances from Milwaukee favorites Jonathan Wainwright and Kelly Doherty; and pitch perfect direction by MCT Artistic Director Brent Hazelton; this production grabs you in a vice-like hold from the first instant, straps you to your seat, and will not let you go until a ghost has the last word.

Stephen King is the undisputed master of modern horror fiction and many of his fans and critics alike regard his 1987 Misery as one of his finest novels. A meditation on the author’s relationship with some of his own obsessive fans, and his figurative captivity under the near lethal influence of alcohol and cocaine, the story is both smaller in scope and more personal than many of his other books and movies, but it is no less harrowing. Since it was published, it has been made into an award-winning movie and adapted for the stage twice. It was even turned into a “feel bad” musical in 2014 by a Dutch composer and theater producer.

This adaptation by William Goldman (who also wrote the screenplay for the 1990 movie starring Kathy Bates) is tailored for the stage so viewers won’t miss a variety of settings, a large cast or the traditional action and gore sequences that populate typical horror movies. If anything, the claustrophobic confinement to two rooms with no view to the outside intensifies the experience. A series of dangerously intimate conversations reveal key parts of author Paul Sheldon’s life and work, and the inner workings of Annie Wilkes’s progressively more terrifying mind. His desperation and pain are both palpable and like Paul, audiences are trapped in this bizarre nightmare with no obvious way out. We are also at Annie’s mercy.

Looking at Annie’s bedroom and kitchen that span the width of the Studio Theatre, it’s easy to see that something isn’t quite right. There are cracks in between the uneven boards that make up the walls. Wooden panels are installed at odd angles and a once-cheerful floral pattern painted on the walls of the bedroom is faded and dingy – as if it is disappearing slowly over time. Just as Annie says she’s “old fashioned,” the house in the middle of nowhere Colorado feels like a relic of another time, preserved in its own, remote corner of the Twilight Zone. This environment adds to the uneasiness that builds and builds throughout the 100-minute show.

As crazed superfan, former nurse and deranged gatekeeper, Kelly Doherty is masterful. She creates a character that lives by her own twisted logic, with each new conclusion leading to terrifying actions that are completely necessary in her own world. In her portrayal, the intensity of emotion that goes into love, obsession and hate lurk right below the surface of a lonely woman who lives vicariously through Paul’s books and their historical romance heroine, Misery Chastain. When Annie appears kind in tending Paul’s wounds from a car accident, it feels genuine. When she demands that he destroy a new manuscript because it contains foul language, and threatens him with even more harm, these impulses also feel genuine. Her strange melange of affection, unpredictability, savagery, vulnerability and calculating manipulation are all equally real – which makes her terrifying. In Annie, Doherty creates a three-dimensional person instead of a monster – which is a feat. This also renders her exponentially more frightening than a traditional evil-doer.

Suffering through a dozen different kinds of psychological and physical pain over the course of the story, Jonathan Wainwright is also exceptional in the role of Paul. With precise physicality, some of Wainwright’s most impressive scenes are the wordless moments when Paul crawls out of bed towards the locked door of his bedroom, dragging his mangled legs across the floor, or when he struggles to get into, and then maneuver a wheelchair through the cramped rooms. The audience holds its breath collectively every time he attempts to pick the lock on his bedroom and make some progress towards escape. As Paul improvises new strategies for each interaction with Annie, Wainwright transitions from disbelief to stoic resistance, from the suave moves of a potential suitor to a sly invitation to be a story collaborator. As he tries and fails repeatedly to gain his freedom we flinch, knowing that severe repercussions will follow, ranging from professional loss to chemical withdrawal to physical torture. Occasionally Wainwright jumps too fluidly from one tactic to another, shifting gears without letting the audience in on Paul’s thought process, but that is a tiny complaint on an otherwise amazing performance.

In an interesting sidenote, MCT’s Misery is the latest in a string of horror plays available to Wisconsin audiences this year, including American Players Theatre’s The Moors, Forward Theater’s Feeding Beatrice, Milwaukee Opera Theater’s Night of the Living Dead, and The Constructivists’ The Totalitarians. When the terrors of the real world seem beyond our control, perhaps we can all find a strange comfort in fictional horror. Or maybe our post-Covid brains need the adrenaline rush of impending disaster. Whatever the case, this gorgeously frightening and complex production of Misery will get your heart racing. And like she does to Paul, Annie may haunt you long after you leave the theater.

Post Script

MCT's "Misery" is an Exceptional Nightmare