
Misery
by Stephen King
Adapted for the stage by Simon Moore
Directed by Pat Grosse
October 13th - 20th, 2001
The Tower Theatre Company performing at the Tower Theatre, Canonbury
Cast List
Paul Sheldon : Ian Chaplain
Annie Wilkes : Jill Batty
Production Team
Director : Pat Grosse
Set Design : Wendy Parry
Lighting Design : Stephen Ley
Sound Tape : Simon Humphries
Stage Manager : Dominic Batty
ASMs : Kate Llewelyn, John Cornwell, Nick Bakker, Alison Foulds, Colette Dockery
Lighting operator : Jackie Devitt
Sound operator : Mick Smith
Props construction : Lucy Nandris
Wardrobe : Kay Perversi
Set construction : John Morton, Tess Walsh, Jude Chalk, John Sole, Alan McKenzie, John McSpadyen, Dorothy Wright, Chris Ison, Robert Myer,
Keith Syrett, Ella McKenzie, Roger Beaumont, Keith Hill & members of the cast and crew
Review by Marion Cotter
Marion Cotter is a publisher and theatre reviewer for
www.coventgandenlife.com
Vampires, ghosts and madness haunt the novels of horror writer Stephen King, whose fascination with the
occult and the dark forces of the mind is well documented in his string of best-sellers. "People want to know why I write such gross
stuff", he admits. "I like to tell them I have the heart of a small boy ... and keep it in a jar on my desk."
His first
published work (I Was a Teenage Grave Robber)
concerns a scientist who breeds giant maggots.
Carrie is the tale of a repressed teenager who
takes gruesome revenge on the classmates who
taunt her. The Dark Hall revolves around
an author who is terrorised by the physical
manifestation of his literary alter ego.
It's no
surprise, then, that in Misery, King delves into
the fantasy world of a warned mind to show what
can happen when love becomes lethal and turns
into a near-fatal attraction.
High flying
author Paul Sheldon is driving home after
collecting an award for the latest in his series
of novels about Misery, a 19th century heroine
whose life and loves have won him a rapturous
female fan club. His car skids off the road in a
heavy snowstorm, overturning and leaving him
badly injured. Who should come to his rescue
before thick snow wipes out all traces of his
vehicle but Annie Wilkes, a former nurse with a
screw loose who just happens to be his number one
fan.
After
bundling him into her car and driving him to her
remote Colorado log cabin, Annie proceeds to
administer not just pain killers but pain,
turning her helpless charge into a morphine
addict whose shattered legs render him immobile
while she forces him to write the best and
biggest Misery novel of all.
As anyone who
saw the film of the novel starring Kathy Bates
will confirm, this only-just-possible plot has
all the makings of a chillingly taut thriller
with electrifyingly scary moments guaranteed to
keep the audience's nerves on a knife edge. But
without the right casting, pace and direction it
can merely seem absurd and improbable - the
macabre fantasy of kid's comic land.
I have to say
that this production of Misery, directed by Pat
Grosse, didn't work for me. Done well, this is a
play that should have the hairs on your neck
bristling as the twisted mind of nurse Annie -
who we soon learn has knocked off a few babies
and old dears in her time - ratchets the agony up
another notch for the hapless prisoner she
professes to love. At the moment when she hacks
his foot off with an axe, our hearts should skip
a beat in horror and disbelief. Instead, I was
left listening to suppressed laughter from the
row behind.
Was it the
acting? Yes and no. Poor Jill Batty, playing
Annie, was clearly nursing a dreadful cold on the
Sunday I saw this production. The cold was
clearly gaining the upper hand at some points,
when she croaked and coughed her way gamely
through the script but understandably failed to
cast the necessary menacing chill over the
proceedings.
By contrast,
Ian Chaplain, as the captive Sheldon, seemed far
too jaunty for a chap who has been kidnapped and
hobbled by an axe-wielding nutter who is likely
to finish him off altogether the minute he
completes his magnum opus. His often cheery
demeanour and upbeat delivery (perfect, it must
be said, for the first and last scenes) didn't
really square up with the torment one imagines
Sheldon must be going through, or provide the
necessary foil to nurse Annie's chilling
tauntings.
The result
was a disappointingly lightweight production.
Instead of crackIing with tension as the stuff of
nightmares unfolds, the suspense never rose
enough for most of the audience to suspend
disbelief, let alone grip the edge of their
seats. A powerful two-hander like this requires
impeccable casting and direction to work its
spell over the audience, and I can't say this
production hit the spot.
Simon
Humphries provided excellent sound effects,
whether portraying the winter storms, Sheldon's
car plunging into the trees or tribal drums. As
the curtain fell, we were even treated to a
reprise of the Beatles' own song Misery. Lighting
was similarly well handled by Stephen Ley, with
headlights raking across the cabin windows
serving to highlight the bleak loneliness of
Sheldon's mountain tomb.
Wendy Parry's
set design worked well, portraying the
oppressive, down-at-heel mountain shack in the
depths of Colorado, where Sheldon is held
captive. Wardrobe was handled by Kay Perversi.
Misery
by Stephen King |
|
October 13th - 20th, 2001 |
The Tower Theatre Company performing at the Tower Theatre, Canonbury |
Cast List
|
Production Team |
Review by Marion Cotter
Marion Cotter is a publisher and theatre reviewer for www.coventgandenlife.com
Vampires, ghosts and madness haunt the novels of horror writer Stephen King, whose fascination with the
occult and the dark forces of the mind is well documented in his string of best-sellers. "People want to know why I write such gross
stuff", he admits. "I like to tell them I have the heart of a small boy ... and keep it in a jar on my desk."
His first
published work (I Was a Teenage Grave Robber)
concerns a scientist who breeds giant maggots.
Carrie is the tale of a repressed teenager who
takes gruesome revenge on the classmates who
taunt her. The Dark Hall revolves around
an author who is terrorised by the physical
manifestation of his literary alter ego.
It's no
surprise, then, that in Misery, King delves into
the fantasy world of a warned mind to show what
can happen when love becomes lethal and turns
into a near-fatal attraction.
High flying
author Paul Sheldon is driving home after
collecting an award for the latest in his series
of novels about Misery, a 19th century heroine
whose life and loves have won him a rapturous
female fan club. His car skids off the road in a
heavy snowstorm, overturning and leaving him
badly injured. Who should come to his rescue
before thick snow wipes out all traces of his
vehicle but Annie Wilkes, a former nurse with a
screw loose who just happens to be his number one
fan.
After
bundling him into her car and driving him to her
remote Colorado log cabin, Annie proceeds to
administer not just pain killers but pain,
turning her helpless charge into a morphine
addict whose shattered legs render him immobile
while she forces him to write the best and
biggest Misery novel of all.
As anyone who
saw the film of the novel starring Kathy Bates
will confirm, this only-just-possible plot has
all the makings of a chillingly taut thriller
with electrifyingly scary moments guaranteed to
keep the audience's nerves on a knife edge. But
without the right casting, pace and direction it
can merely seem absurd and improbable - the
macabre fantasy of kid's comic land.
I have to say
that this production of Misery, directed by Pat
Grosse, didn't work for me. Done well, this is a
play that should have the hairs on your neck
bristling as the twisted mind of nurse Annie -
who we soon learn has knocked off a few babies
and old dears in her time - ratchets the agony up
another notch for the hapless prisoner she
professes to love. At the moment when she hacks
his foot off with an axe, our hearts should skip
a beat in horror and disbelief. Instead, I was
left listening to suppressed laughter from the
row behind.
Was it the
acting? Yes and no. Poor Jill Batty, playing
Annie, was clearly nursing a dreadful cold on the
Sunday I saw this production. The cold was
clearly gaining the upper hand at some points,
when she croaked and coughed her way gamely
through the script but understandably failed to
cast the necessary menacing chill over the
proceedings.
By contrast,
Ian Chaplain, as the captive Sheldon, seemed far
too jaunty for a chap who has been kidnapped and
hobbled by an axe-wielding nutter who is likely
to finish him off altogether the minute he
completes his magnum opus. His often cheery
demeanour and upbeat delivery (perfect, it must
be said, for the first and last scenes) didn't
really square up with the torment one imagines
Sheldon must be going through, or provide the
necessary foil to nurse Annie's chilling
tauntings.
The result
was a disappointingly lightweight production.
Instead of crackIing with tension as the stuff of
nightmares unfolds, the suspense never rose
enough for most of the audience to suspend
disbelief, let alone grip the edge of their
seats. A powerful two-hander like this requires
impeccable casting and direction to work its
spell over the audience, and I can't say this
production hit the spot.
Simon
Humphries provided excellent sound effects,
whether portraying the winter storms, Sheldon's
car plunging into the trees or tribal drums. As
the curtain fell, we were even treated to a
reprise of the Beatles' own song Misery. Lighting
was similarly well handled by Stephen Ley, with
headlights raking across the cabin windows
serving to highlight the bleak loneliness of
Sheldon's mountain tomb.
Wendy Parry's
set design worked well, portraying the
oppressive, down-at-heel mountain shack in the
depths of Colorado, where Sheldon is held
captive. Wardrobe was handled by Kay Perversi.