‘Misery’ is a mesmerizing psychological thriller with a great deal to say about the writing process itself – about the superstitions and anxieties that surround creativity, the fear of writer’s block, and the danger of becoming trapped by the very material that made you successful in the first place. James Caan plays novelist Paul Sheldon, who decides to kill off the heroine, Misery, of his bestselling romance series in the hope of moving on creatively. But after being caught in a blizzard and seriously injured in a car accident, he is rescued by his self-proclaimed “number one fan,” Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates).

The film has a great deal to say about celebrity culture and the possessiveness audiences can feel toward artists. Fans often want public figures to remain fixed in the role or image they themselves have embraced, and ‘Misery’ explores what happens when an artist tries to evolve beyond that. Paul wants to leave Misery behind; Annie absolutely refuses to let him.

Kathy Bates, in her Oscar-winning role, is extraordinary as Annie – at once absurdly over-the-top and deeply believable. It’s the psychological warfare between the two characters that gives the film its power. Like thrillers of the late 80s and early 90s such as ‘Fatal Attraction’, ‘Pacific Heights’, ‘Single White Female’ and ‘Cape Fear’, the film builds around the idea of an apparently ordinary individual who becomes terrifyingly unhinged, and who must ultimately be confronted and destroyed.

What’s especially effective is the gradual realization that Annie has no intention of letting Paul leave. At first she appears to be his rescuer, but it soon becomes clear he is effectively her prisoner. The only leverage he possesses is the manuscript she is coercing him into writing – resurrecting the very character he had already killed off. There’s something almost religious in Annie’s insistence that Misery must return, as though her own sanity depends upon it.

Critics at the time compared the dynamic between Annie and Paul to Bette Davis and Joan Crawford in ‘Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?’, and that feels apt. The line between care and destruction is constantly blurred. Paul is physically incapacitated, forced to rely on the very person imprisoning him, and must use his creativity as a survival mechanism. In a sense, Misery’s resurrection becomes tied to his own possible escape.

There’s also the haunting suggestion that the final chapter Paul writes for Misery may simultaneously become the final chapter of his own life. Directed by Rob Reiner, the film is masterfully grounded in human relationships. As in ‘A Few Good Men’ or ‘When Harry Met Sally’, Reiner understands character and emotional realism, and it’s precisely that ordinary, recognizable setting which makes the horror here feel so disturbingly plausible.