`Misery'

Stars: James Caan, Kathy Bates and Richard Farnsworth

Theaters: Annex, Movies 8 and Cinema 8 (Broken Arrow and Sand Springs)

Rating: R (violence, language)

Quality: FOUR STARS (on a scale of zero to five stars)

Despite the presence of horrormeister Stephen King's name

in the credits, "Misery" isn't really a horror movie -

unless you happen to be a writer.

This chilling tale of obsession and madness is, instead,

a first-class suspense thriller.

In its claustrophobic setting and sense of lurking menace,

it's similar to the 1967 classic "Wait Until Dark." In its lead characters

- an unwilling captive and deranged captor - it calls to mind "The

Collector" (1965) and "The Beguiled" (1971).

But perhaps the film it resembles the most, in a curious

way, is Martin Scorsese's "King of Comedy" (1982). In

that frighteningly black comedy, a fan who aspires to stardom

kidnaps the talk show host he admires the most, intending

to swap him for air time.

Take away the comedy, add a generous dose of nail-biting

suspense, and you've got "Misery."

Based on the King novel of the same name, "Misery" tells

the story of novelist Paul Sheldon (James Caan), who makes

the mistake of trying to motor his just-finished manuscript

from the Colorado mountains to New York during a blinding snowstorm.

Before the credits - and the delightfully unlikely strains

of Jr. Walker's song "Shotgun" - are over, Sheldon has

taken a header off the snow-slicked roads, rolling his car

and seriously injuring himself.

Next thing he knows, he's in bed and bandaged up, saved

from certain death. His savior, as things turn out, is an

overweight, solitary woman named Annie Wilkes - who happens

to be a huge fan of Sheldon's romance novels about the character

Misery Costain. Annie's also a nurse, and has tended to him well.

She's also nuts, as Sheldon soon learns.

Among other things, "Misery" emerges as a great picture

of fan obsession, and of that curious mix of hero-worship

and hero-bashing personified in supermarket tabloids and

trash TV. The whole movie, in fact, can be seen as a paradigm

for the way the celebrated are treated in America - deification,

followed by denigration.

It is also every successful writer or actor's nightmare:

What happens when the fans turn on you?

Caan is suitably tough and agonized as the captured writer,

but it's Bates who steals the show here. She plays Annie

with that curious mix of callow subservience and self-righteous

anger that marks the truly obsessed fan.

The obsession is fixed on Sheldon, but only on the part

of him that is a part of her own life. What she really is

is obsessed with herself, with her view of life, with her

fantasies. She wants the artist to conform to her image

of him, and when he doesn't, there's hell to pay.

This is basically a two-character show, but Richard Farnsworth,

as a small-town sheriff, and Frances Sternhagen, as his

wife, impress with some warm and underplayed scenes. Lauren

Bacall, seen briefly as Sheldon's agent, looks great.

This is a sharply written script - by the veteran William

Goldman - full of little detours and scenes that know more than they tell.

Director Rob Reiner makes the movie work by never giving

away more than he should, and by employing a lot of intercutting

and extreme closeup shots to convey suspense and terror.

He also uses dialogue about as well as anyone could, subtly

building character with revelatory conversations that are

infinitely more interesting than the quick-cut, fast-action

technique employed in most of today's thrillers.

Interestingly enough, Reiner directed 1986's "Stand By

Me," one of the few King-to-film adaptations to get any

sort of critical acclaim. Along with "Misery," it's also

the only other King adaptation to reach the screen that

doesn't depend on the supernatural for its thrills.

But thrills it has, along with good characters and an intelligent

script and direction. Those qualities are hard to find these

days; in "Misery," they deliver the goods.