Misery is the best book-to-screen adaptation of any of Stephen King's works. More than any other director, Rob Reiner knows intuitively how to translate King to a motion-picture format. Misery and Stand By Me are note-perfect, glowing from the inside with a warmth and and ease, frequently surpassing their source material by avoiding clunk or ham, brightening the tonal palette, and fully exploring the smaller territories of these tales with an eye for detail and a sense of pacing and rhythm which is effortless to follow and wholly organic in unspooling. There is a feeling of lightness and immediacy to Reiner's direction which is truly a delight to witness. Of the two, Misery stands out as a clear masterpiece. Honestly…

If there is one thing King does like no other it is finding horror in the mundane. These stories are often my favourite and Misery certainly ranks among the best of them.

Misery is also a story that is easily transported to film because it is a very simple one and those are often very suitable for an adaptation. While it is easy to criticise this story's and subsequently the film's straightforward nature, I actually feel it is its strength.

This is a no frills, no holds barred, claustrophobic thriller that is submerged in a growing sense of unease that just won't ease off. It is amazing when looking at Reiner's filmography before this that he managed to pull this…

Part of Hoop-Tober 2016

“I don’t know if anyone could ever totally get over something like that.”

It was the fall of 1995, and I was going ever so slightly insane.

As I have written before, my childhood was unconventional. This is itself not unusual—no one’s upbringing conforms precisely to the day’s dictates. But the particular brand of peculiarity toward which my parents’ choices bent was one of isolation and fear. We had no friends to speak of outside of my father’s family, to the point that contact with those not related by blood or marriage or providing a service function became almost nonexistent. The world was a terrifying place in which no one was to be trusted—strangers lurked around…

Misery's 107 minutes can almost be compared to a strong hand progressively gripping and tightening its clench around the audience's throat; each minute that passes gradually builds on the dire atmosphere and firmness of location so vigorously it's as if the squeeze of the film aims to strangle. It's a taut and tense experience that captures the essence of desperation and claustrophobia like few films have before it, restricting its location and cast with great success. Along with these two attributes, The resonating notion that radiates from Rob Reiner's Misery is the struggle for air and salvation that we find ourselves sharing with Paul Sheldon, who has become a prisoner of the benevolent but equally psychotic Annie Wilkes. Stephen King's…

Rob Reiner takes another swing at Stephen King and while Misery is an entertaining and watchable thriller with one great all-time scene in the hobbling sequence, but Reiner doesn't have a tight enough reign on his tone here. To his credit, despite the small number of characters and claustrophobic setting it never feels stagey or theatrical. It is consistently a cinematic experience even if the material isn't necessarily.

However, despite the oscar on her mantle Kathy Bates' Annie Wilkes has not aged well. It is such a big character - one that speaks in aw shucks affections and bellows with white hot rage - she feels so over the top now that it's difficult not to snigger. As a result,…