Review: 'Misery' finds macabre humor in the midst of a snowstorm

Snow is a key plot point in the theatrical version of Stephen King's "Misery." Snow blanketed theatergoers as they drove home from opening night last weekend. And snow seemed determined to prevent the show from opening at all.

Novelist Paul Sheldon (Bill McCallum) is stranded in snowbound Colorado after a car wreck. We strongly suspect his "No. 1 fan," a former nurse named Annie Wilkes (George Keller), may have run him off the road and, as the play opens, he's stuck in a makeshift bed in her home. Over the course of the play, jolly-but-unbalanced Annie forces him to write a new book about her favorite character, shifting from dedicated caregiver to demented fan/editor from hell.

The film is best remembered for Kathy Bates' Oscar-winning performance as Annie and the play is most notable for Keller's inventive characterization, which is simultaneously childlike and canny.

The most unsettling thing about "Misery" is that Annie seems to have no endgame. Almost from the beginning of the play, it's clear that nothing good can come from trapping a famous writer in her cabin for months, with the world searching for him and a sheriff occasionally knocking at her door.

Keller's detailed acting makes us wonder how Annie got here — references to her childhood suggest something went awry there — and convinces us that Annie thinks she is doing the right thing. All she has, really, is her harebrained conviction that she knows what's best for Paul.

Yellow Tree's "Misery" had a heck of a time getting in front of audiences, with a snowpocalypse preventing the cast from gathering for rehearsals and a failing sound system screwing up the music and effects on opening night. It's hard to gauge how the latter affected the show but the play seems to aim for macabre humor more than scares.

The uninterrupted flow of a movie suits the mounting tension of the story better than a play does, but director John Catron and scenic designer Justin Hooper build an almost cinematic suspense into a scene in which Paul, having sneaked out of his bed, races to get back to it when he hears Annie returning to the cabin from an errand.

Cutouts in the walls of the cabin set allow us to shift our eyes between several places at once, an ingenious substitute for the cross-cutting that would create tension in a similar movie scene.

As adapted by William Goldman, King's tale underscores the almost sadomasochistic bond between writer and audience: The novelist is supposedly in charge but a book isn't effective if no one opts to read it.

There's satisfying irony in the fact that Paul, holed up with a psycho, finds his writing mojo again and that Annie, who's supposedly devoted to Paul, will do literally anything to keep him cabin-bound.

Maybe the biggest irony in Yellow Tree's "Misery" is this: The good guy is supposedly Paul but McCallum is so effective at conveying his snotty entitlement that you may find yourself rooting for unhinged Annie instead.

'Misery'

Who: By William Goldman, adapted from the novel by Stephen King. Directed by John Catron.

When: 7:30 p.m. Wed.-Sat., 2 p.m. Sun. Ends March 19.

Where: 320 5th Av. SE., Osseo.

Protocol: Masks required at Sunday performances.

Tickets: $31-$35, yellowtreetheatre.com.