Misery (1990)

Written at the time of the film's release...

  Misery (Rob Reiner, 1990) A return to Stephen King territory for Reiner after adapting King's novella "The Body" into Stand By Me. That one was an unexpected hit for Reiner, who'd only achieved a certain cult following with This is Spinal Tap and The Sure Thing. King's Stand By Me changed all that, and Reiner had his pick of projects. 

We're going to be looking at a bunch of Reiner films over the next week as part of the Large Association of Movie Blogs' "Directors Chair" series for next month. The main reason is: I haven't done a lot of comments on his films—Stand By Me is it. There are a couple in the can and a couple I should write up...because the films are important parts of his output. 

And part of the movie zeitgeist.

The story is every creator's worst nightmare: meeting critics and obsessed fans. As adapted by William Goldman, Writer Paul Sheldon (James Caan) goes to his mountain writing-retreat to put the finishing touches on his latest novel—a departure from the successful historical potboilers he has been churning out. 

Trouble starts when a traffic accident leaves him injured and in the care of nurse Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates, who won a Best Actress Oscar for this), who declares herself his "number one fan." The care she gives him is fine—of course, he's helpless, bed-ridden, incapacitated with two broken legs, and there is the usual paranoia that comes from being in the care of a stranger. But his condition goes from "stable" to "critical" when Annie reads his manuscript, and doesn't like it as it's not the same thing he's been writing. But, he's down-graded from "critical" when she gets ahold of the latest book in Sheldon's "Misery" series and discovers her favorite character is killed in it. At this point, Annie down-grades from "stable" to "street-rat crazy." 

She restrains Sheldon to his recovery bed, burns his manuscript, then breaks his ankles—"hobbling" him—to keep him captive to write the next "Misery" novel bringing the character back to miraculous life.

Meanwhile, Sheldon's publisher (played by Lauren Bacall) reports him missing—he's missed his manuscript delivery date—and a search begins for Sheldon in the local area, spear-headed by Sheriff Buster (the late great Richard Farnsworth, aided by his dispatcher, Frances Sternhagen), circling around the area around the vicinity of Annie, who may have been responsible for some mysterious hospital deaths in the past.

King was writing in his basic fear wheelhouse with this one. A cult-figure for his contemporary horror novels, his fan-base must have been a little weird, inspiring nightmares of what they might do to him if they ever got ahold of him. Metaphorically, he was also writing about his own feelings of helplessness dealing with drug addiction—Annie keeps Paul addicted to painkillers throughout his stay, withholding them from him when he becomes "bad," in her estimation.

This might fall into the thriller category, but I find it a horror film, just as much as Psycho is a horror film.   

And the most interesting aspect, for me, is the aspect of the creator's view of the "fans"—not all of them, just the most dedicated, the ones who see every work as a love-letter to themselves. And an idea stuck in my head wondering if George Lucas ever had nightmares about fans dressed as storm-troopers, each one carrying a sledge-hammer, and their own ideas of what a "Star Wars" movie should look like. I wonder if he's ever seen this movie.

Get Smart

Written at the time of the film's release... 

"Would you believe..." written a MONTH after the film's release...

"86'd"

The latest film to make the unsteady transition from television to big-screen started out as a series collaboration between comedy power-houses Buck Henry and Mel Brooks, and is fondly remembered as a sharply-written schtick-filled send-up of the guns and gadgets formula of the James Bond series, starring Don Adams as Maxwell Smart, Agent 86 of CONTROL (the enemy agency was named KAOS). I have fond memories of the sure-fire laugh from my father at the finely-timed closing of a security door on Max's nose at the tail-end of each episode.

When it was announced that "Get Smart!" (the series had an exclamation mark, which seems to have gotten lost somewhere) would be made into a new film, * and that Steve Carell would be playing Smart, it seemed either a very shrewd move or a very bad one. Carell would be hard-pressed to match Adams' energy or his high nasal whine of a voice, and it's hard to imagine Smart without either of those.

Don Adams' crack timing was also something that would be hard-pressed to duplicate--it was Adams alone that made the constantly re-used "Cone of Silence" gag work, with just a razor's edge of silence before his "Eh?!" and that was done in two-shot with the unflappable set-up of Ed Platt as CONTROL's Chief. Plus, "Get Smart!" was sharply written--a "MAD" magazine pastiche of parody, comedy schtick, slapstick and pop-culture references (along with enough sure-fire repeatable gags from Henry and Brooks to fill out the half-hour). Even at its worst, "Get Smart!" was sure to entertain.

So, one approached the movie with hopeful skepticism. Carell has failed as often as he's succeeded, and the ghost of Don Adams would be tough to emulate or shake off. Fortunately, there's not a problem; Get Smart is hilarious (occasionally), in many of the same ways as the series, but also with its own unique breezy rhythm that ekes out belly-laughs from sharp writing and performances. Only the casting of Terence Stamp (never a good clown) as KAOS operative Siegfried disappoints (series Siegfried Bernie Kopell makes a too-brief appearance). Anne Hathaway manages to be funny, vulnerable and commanding as Agent 99 (at one point donning a Barbara Feldon page-boy wig) who's a bit more Emma Peel than the original. Alan Arkin is a fine Chief, dry as dust, and "The Rock" a pleasant comedian. Bill Murray makes a cameo as the CONTROL agent, played by David Ketchum, that always hid in lockers, mail-boxes, garbage-bins.

But it's Carell's movie. The only gags he can't make work are, strangely enough, the old reliable ones from the show, and they're trucked out as if they were some sort of duty that had to be performed, reluctantly. But he does re-create the Smart persona in his own style--arrogant, foolish, running on fumes rather than juice, and all-too-willing to ignore his failings. But played sedately, and with an odd sort of rabbit-y vulnerability. He makes Max work, and that's a bit of a miracle, given Adams' identification with the character.

It's a good lark, trotting out bits from Bond and other spy-movies to make fun of (like a complicated fight in free-fall, a "Jaws"-type comic villain, and the gadgets), but in its final half-hour loses its good will with an extended chase involving planes, trains and automobiles that could have easily been sacrificed to get to the finale borrowed from The Man Who Knew Too Much. If, "Get Smart" had stayed smart...and funny...without depending on the too-familiar formula of vehicular mayhem, it would have been one of the more refreshing comedies to have come to theaters in a long time.

Missed it by that much.

* There already has been a "Get Smart!" movie, starring original Max, Don Adams, called The Nude Bomb, which tempting fate with that title, proved to be a bomb at the box-office.