Original subtitles

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MISERY

(SINGING) I said, Shotgun

Shoot 'em for he runs now

Do the jerk, baby

Do the jerk now

Hey

Put on your red dress

And then you go downtown now

I said buy yourself a shotgun now

We're gonna break it down baby now

We're gonna load it up baby now

And then you shoot him 'fore he runs now

I said, Shotgun

Shoot 'em 'fore he runs now

Do the jerk baby

Do the jerk now

Hey

Put on your high-heeled shoes

I said we're goin' down here Listen to 'em play the blues

We're gonna dig potatoes

We're gonna pick tomatoes

I said, Shotgun

Shoot 'em 'fore he runs now

Do the jerk baby

Do the jerk now

Hey

I said it's Twine Time

What's that?

An old friend.

I was rummaging through a closet

and it was just sitting there.

It's nice, Paul. It's got character.

When I wrote my first book, I used to carry it around in this

while I was looking for a publisher.

I was a writer then.

You're still a writer.

Haven't been a writer since I got in the Misery business.

It's not a bad business. And it would still be growing, too.

The first printing for Misery's Child

was the most ever. Over a million.

Marcia, please.

Misery Chastain put braces on your daughter's teeth

and is putting her through college,

bought you two houses and floor seats to the Knicks.

And what thanks does she get? You go and kill her!

I never meant for it to become my life.

And if I hadn't gotten rid of her now,

I'd have ended up writing her forever.

Now I'm leaving for Colorado to try to finish the new book.

If I can make this work, I might just have something I want on my tombstone.

I'm your number-one fan.

There's nothing to worry about.

You're gonna be just fine. I'll take good care of you.

I'm your number-one fan.

Where...

We're just outside Silver Creek.

How long?

You've been here two days. You're gonna be okay.

My name is Annie Wilkes.

My number-one fan.

Yes. That's right. I'm also a nurse.

Here, take these.

Here.

What are they? They're called Novril.

They're for your pain.

Thank you.

How come I'm not in a hospital?

The blizzard was too strong. I couldn't risk trying to get you there.

I tried calling, but the phone lines are down.

You mustn't tire yourself. You've gotta rest.

You almost died.

Open wide.

Your legs just sing grand opera when you move, don't they?

It's not gonna hurt forever, Paul, I promise you.

Will I be able to walk?

Of course you will.

And your arm will be fine, too.

Your shoulder was pretty badly dislocated.

It was a little stubborn, but I finally popped it back in.

What I'm most proud of is the work I did on those legs.

Considering what I had around the house,

I don't think there's a doctor who could've done any better.

It's not nearly as bad as it looks.

You have a compound fracture of the tibia in both legs,

and the fibula in the right leg is fractured, too.

I could hear the bones moving,

so it's best for your legs to remain immobile.

And as soon as the roads open,

I'll take you to a hospital.

Meantime, you've got a lot of recovering to do,

and I consider it an honor that you'll do it in my home.

This is Marcia Sindell, I'm calling from New York City.

I'd like to speak to the Silver Creek Chief of Police or Sheriff.

Which one of them do you want?

Whichever one's not busy.

Well, I'm pretty sure they're both not busy, Miss Sindell,

since they're both me.

I also happen to be president of the Policeman's Benefit Association,

chairman of the Patrolman's Retirement Fund,

and if you need a good fishing guide, you could do a lot worse.

Call me Buster. Everybody does.

What can I do for you?

I'm a literary agent, and I... I feel like a fool calling you,

but I think one of my clients, Paul Sheldon,

might be in some kind of trouble.

You mean Paul Sheldon the writer?

He's your client, huh?

Yes, he is.

Everybody sure likes those Misery books.

I'm sure you know that Paul's been coming to the Silver Creek Lodge

for years to finish his books.

I understand he's been up here the last six weeks.

Well, not quite. I just called there

and they said he checked out last Tuesday.

Isn't that a little strange?

I don't know. Does he usually phone you

before he checks out of a hotel?

No, of course not. It's just that his daughter hasn't heard from him,

and when he has a new book coming out, he usually keeps in touch.

Now when there wasn't any word from him, I...

You think he might be missin', huh?

I hate that I made this call. Tell me I'm being silly.

A little overprotective, maybe, but tell you what I'll do.

Nothing's been reported out here,

but I'll put his name through our system, and

if anything turns up, I'll call you right back.

I'd appreciate that. Thanks a lot.

Goodbye, Miss Sindell.

We got a phone call? Busy morning.

Yeah. Work, work, work.

Virginia, when was that blizzard?

Last Tuesday. Why?

No reason.

I guess it was kind of a miracle, you finding me.

No, it wasn't a miracle at all.

In a way, I was following you.

You were following me?

Well, it wasn't any secret to me you were staying at the Silver Creek,

seeing as how I'm your number-one fan and all.

Some nights I'd just tool on down there and sit outside

and look up at the light in your cabin

and I'd try to imagine what was goin' on in the room

of the world's greatest writer.

Say the last part again, I didn't hear you.

Don't move now.

I wouldn't want to hurt this neck.

Well, the other afternoon I was on my way home,

and there you were, leavin' the lodge.

And I wondered why a literary genius would go for a drive

when there was a big storm comin'.

I didn't know there was a big storm coming.

Well, lucky for you, I did. And lucky for me, too,

'cause now you're alive and you can write more books.

Oh, Paul, I've read everything of yours.

The Misery novels. I know 'em all by heart.

All eight of 'em. I love them so.

Well, you're very kind.

And you're very brilliant.

Like a baby. All done.

Thank you.

When do you think the phone lines'll be up? I have to call my daughter,

and I'd like to call my agent in New York

and let her know I'm still breathing.

It shouldn't be too much longer now.

Once the roads are open, the phone lines'll be up in no time.

If you give me their numbers, I'll keep tryin' them for you.

Thank you.

Could I ask you a favor?

I noticed in your case there's a new Paul Sheldon book, and

I wondered if maybe...

You want to read it?

Well, if you wouldn't mind.

Well, I do have a very hard-and-fast rule as to

who reads my stuff at this early stage.

Only my editor, my agent,

and anybody that saves me from freezing to death in a car wreck.

You'll never realize what a rare treat you've given me.

Boy, it's like clockwork the way your pain comes.

I'll get you your Novril, Paul.

Forgive me for prattling away and making you feel all oogy.

What's your new book called?

I don't have a title yet.

What's it about?

I don't know.

I know it sounds crazy, but I haven't written anything

but Misery for so long.

Why don't you read it, and you can tell me

what you think it's about?

Maybe you can come up with a title.

Like I could do that!

There's nothin' unusual about Mr. Sheldon's leaving, Buster.

You can tell by the champagne.

Maybe you can, Libby.

No, see, he always orders a bottle of Dom Pérignon

when he's ready to go.

Then he pays up and he's out the door.

No long-distance phone calls or Federal Express packages?

Anything out of the ordinary?

I don't think Mr. Sheldon likes

for things to be out of the ordinary.

Considering who he is and all, famous and all,

he doesn't put on airs.

Drives up from New York in the same car each time, a '65 Mustang.

He says it helps him to think.

He's always been a good guest.

Never makes a noise, never bothers a soul.

I sure hope nothing's happened to him.

So do I.

I bet that old Mustang is pulling into New York right now.

I'm sure you're right. Thanks, Libby.

My pleasure.

I know I'm only 40 pages into your book, but...

But what?

Nothing.

What is it?

Well, it's ridiculous.

Who am I to make a criticism to someone like you?

It's all right, I can take it.

Well, it's brilliantly written.

But then everything you write is brilliant.

Pretty rough so far?

The swearing, Paul.

There, I said it.

The... The profanity bothers you?

It has no nobility.

These are slum kids. I was a slum kid.

Everybody talks like that.

They do not!

What do you think I say when I go to the feed store in town?

"Now, Wally, give me a bag of that F-ing pig feed

"and 10 pounds of that bitchly cow corn"?

And in the bank, do I tell Mrs. Bollinger,

"Here's one big bastard of a check,

"give me some of your Christing money"?

There! Look there! See what you made me do?

Paul, I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Sometimes I get so worked up. Can you ever forgive me?

It's fine.

I love you, Paul.

Your mind. Your creativity. That's all I meant.

Well, this sure is fun.

Virginia, when you're in this car

you're not my wife, you're my deputy.

Well, this deputy'd rather be home

under the covers with the sheriff.

Stop. Stop. What? What?

See that broken limb?

Could've been the weight of the snow.

Yeah? Could've been a rotten branch, could've been the wind,

could've been a lot of things.

Damn!

Need some help?

No, I'm enjoyin' myself! Thank you.

You really think Sheldon's out there?

I hope not. If he is, he's dead.

Let's go to the newspaper office.

I hope I didn't wake you.

No, that's fine.

Look what I got. They had it at the store, Paul.

There was a whole batch of 'em there,

and as soon as I saw it I slammed my money down. I got the first copy.

Then the roads are open.

Well, the one to town is, but that's about it.

I called the hospital and I talked to the head orthopedic surgeon

and I told him who you were and what had happened.

He said as long as there's no infection you're not in any danger,

and as soon as the road to the hospital is open,

they'll send an ambulance for you.

The phone's working?

Well, mine's still out, but the ones in town were working just fine.

I called that agent of yours.

Paul, I peeked at the very beginning.

What a wonderful first page.

Just to read the name Misery Chastain...

My daughter's gotta be goin' nuts.

It's like a visit from my oldest, dearest friend.

I mean, I'm supposed to be home for her birthday. It's today.

The agent said she would tell her you were okay,

but I'm afraid you'll have to wait till tomorrow

if you want to talk to her yourself.

Oh, Paul. What a poet you are.

I made you my specialty, scrambled eggs à la Wilkes.

And I'm on Page 75.

I guess that means it's okay.

No.

No, it isn't, it's...

Pooh. I can't think of any words.

Would "great" be insulting?

I can live with great.

No. It's not just great, it's

perfect.

A perfect, perfect thing.

I thought it was time you two should meet.

Paul, say hello to my favorite beast in the whole world,

my sow Misery.

Misery?

Yes. I told you I was your number-one fan.

Yeah, I'm... I'm starting to believe you.

This farm was kind of dreary,

what with just a few cows and chickens and me.

But when I got Misery here, everything changed.

She just makes me smile so.

She's a fine pig, is what she is.

I'm on Page 300 now, Paul, and it's better than perfect. It's divine.

What's the ceiling that dago painted?

The Sistine Chapel?

Yeah! That and Misery's Child.

Those are the only two divine things ever in this world!

When my husband left me, I wasn't prepared.

It wasn't an easy time.

For a while I thought I might go crazy.

I know how that can be.

I don't know about you, but what I did to get through it

was I dove into work.

Days, nights.

Night shifts can be lonely at a hospital.

I did a lot of reading.

That was when I first discovered Misery.

She made me so happy. She made me forget all my problems.

Course, I suppose you had a little something to do with that, too.

Yeah, well...

I just kept reading them over and over.

I've only got two chapters to go on this one,

and I know when I finish I'll just turn right to the first page

and start reading it all over again.

I'm...

Done? Yeah.

No problem.

Thanks.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not against marriage per se,

but it'd take a pretty special guy to make me

want to walk down that aisle again.

Yeah, it's not something you should enter into lightly.

It boils down to respect.

People just don't respect the institution of marriage anymore.

They have no sense of real commitment.

Well, I'd love to stay here and chat,

but I'm right at the end, and I gotta find out what happens.

You...

You dirty bird. How could you?

She can't be dead! Misery Chastain cannot be dead!

Annie, in 1871, women often died in childbirth.

But her spirit is the important thing,

and Misery's spirit is still alive.

I don't want her spirit! I want her!

And you murdered her!

No. I didn't.

Who did?

No one. She died, she just slipped away.

Slipped away? Slipped away?

She didn't just slip away! You did it!

You did it! You did it!

You did it! You did it! You murdered my Misery!

Annie!

I thought you were good, Paul.

But you're not good. You're just another lying old dirty birdie.

And I don't think I better be around you for a while.

And don't even think about anybody coming for you.

Not the doctors, not your agent, not your family,

because I never called them.

Nobody knows you're here.

And you better hope nothing happens to me.

Because if I die, you die.

No, Miss Sindell, there's no point in comin' up here now.

Everything that can be done is.

Yes, we're working close with the state police

and the FBI's been informed.

Right. Right. As soon as we know anything, we'll let you know.

No bother at all. Call anytime. Bye, Miss Sindell.

All right. Well, I sure appreciate it. Thank you.

According to the check on Sheldon's credit charges,

there's nothing after the Silver Creek.

And no calls about the article, either.

You poor, dear thing. What are you doing on the floor?

It's all my fault.

If I'd had a proper hospital bed this never would've happened.

Here, let me help you back in.

I know this hurts, but it'll only take a few seconds.

Upsy-daisy!

Please, wait.

You're such a crybaby.

There you go. Comfy?

Perfect.

You're such a kidder.

I have a big surprise for you.

But first there's something you must do.

You don't suppose I could have a little snack

while I'm waiting for the surprise?

I'll get you everything you want, but you must listen first.

Sometimes my thinking is a little muddy, I accept that.

That's why I couldn't remember

all the things they were asking me

on the witness stand in Denver.

But this time I thought clearly.

I asked God about you,

and God said, "I delivered him unto you

"so that you may show him the way."

Show me the way?

Yes.

When I mentioned a snack,

I was thinking more along the lines

of cheese and crackers kind of thing.

Paul, this is no time for jokes.

You must rid the world of this filth.

You want me to burn my book?

I know this may be difficult for you, but it's for the best.

It's really not difficult at all.

My agent made dozens of copies.

There's gonna be an auction in New York.

Every publishing house in New York is reading it now.

So if you want me to burn my book, fine.

You're not really ridding the world of anything.

Then light the match, Paul.

It's no big deal.

So you've indicated. Do it.

I know this is the only copy, Paul.

When you were 24 you wrote your first book, and you didn't make a copy

because you didn't think anybody would take it seriously.

But they did. And ever since you've never made any copies

because you're superstitious.

It's why you always come back to the Silver Creek Lodge.

You told that story to Merv Griffin 1 years ago.

Merv Griffin.

I'll tell you what. It doesn't ever have to be published.

No one ever has to read it.

I'll just keep it for myself.

No one will even know it exists.

As long as it does exist, your mind won't ever be free.

I think you should light the match, Paul.

Can't you see it's what God wants?

You're so brilliant,

I would think you'd certainly be able to see that.

We're put on this earth to help people, Paul.

Like I'm trying to help you.

Please. Help me help you.

You're doing the right thing.

My goodness! Goodness gracious! Oh, my.

Goodness! Heavens to Betsy!

Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!

Heavens to Betsy! Oh, goodness!

Well, isn't that an oogy mess?

That's the Steadman place down there.

And that's the Wilkes farm straight ahead.

That's no '65 Mustang.

There's nothing else out this way. Let's... Let's circle back.

I do believe the winters are getting

shorter and shorter every year.

People say it has something to do with the ozone layer.

What do you think?

I don't know.

Yeah, well, it's a theory.

Here's your Novril.

All right. We're back.

Now, you're gonna have to remind us who the audience chose.

They chose Kevin. They chose Kevin.

Hi, Kevin. Hi. How you doin', Chuck?

Fine. Make yourself at home back there,

and Sheree will tell us about the date.

Okay. First of all, I picked out a very classy restaurant.

It was so classy, and he shows up without no tie...

See, isn't this nice?

Great. I always wanted to visit the other side of the room.

And look what I got for you.

An electric razor, so you can shave yourself now.

If I knew this was gonna be the surprise, I'd have burned all my books.

Now, don't poke fun!

This is a very big day for you, Paul.

You just sit tight and I'll set everything up.

Set what up?

That's the big surprise.

Your new studio.

After all, writers do need a place to work.

Work? You mean write?

What in the world do you think I'd write?

Paul, I don't think. I know.

Now that you've gotten rid of that nasty manuscript,

you can go back to doing what you're great at.

You're gonna write a new novel,

your greatest achievement ever.

Misery's Return.

Misery's Return?

I know you didn't mean it when you killed her,

and now you'll make it right.

It'll be a book in my honor,

for saving your life and nursing you back to health.

Paul, you're gonna make me the envy of the whole world!

You just expect me to whip something off, is that it?

I expect nothing less than your masterpiece.

You do understand that this is not the ordinary way

in which books get written.

I mean, some people might actually consider this an oddball situation.

I have total confidence in your brilliance.

Besides, the view will inspire you.

You just inhale that. I'll be right back.

I guess you don't get bothered by neighbors much.

Don't you worry about that,

you'll have total solitude so you can concentrate on your work.

Great.

I got you this expensive paper to type on,

and I got a great deal on this 50-pound clunker,

on account of its missing an "N."

I told the saleslady "N" was one of the letters

in my favorite writer's name.

It's two of the letters in my favorite nurse's name, A-nn-ie.

You fooler! Did I do good?

You did great.

There is just one little thing.

I can't work on this paper. See, it's Corrasable Bond. It smudges.

So I thought maybe, if you went back into town,

you could bring me some white long-grain mimeo.

But mine cost the most, so I don't see how it can smudge.

Come here, I'll show you.

It does smudge, after all. Isn't that fascinating.

I thought you'd be interested.

I'd like for you to be in on everything, Annie.

Not just the finished book, but how it's written.

Thank you for thinking of me.

Anything else I can get while I'm in town?

Any other crucial requirements that need satisfying?

Would you like a tiny tape recorder?

Or how about a handmade set of writing slippers?

No, just the paper will be fine.

Are you sure?

'Cause if you want, I'll bring back the whole store for you.

Annie, what's the matter?

What's the matter? I'll tell you what's the matter!

I go out of my way for you!

I do everything to try and make you happy!

I feed you, I clean you, I dress you, and what thanks do I get?

"You bought the wrong paper, Annie.

"I can't write on this paper, Annie!"

Well, I'll get your stupid paper,

but you just better start showing me

a little more appreciation around here, Mister Man!

Shit.

Come on, you've written about this, now do it.

What do you know? It actually works.

What a surprise.

You crazy bitch.

Paul, I've got your paper.

I hope it's enough. It's three reams of long-grain mimeo.

Just the kind you asked for.

Paul, you're dripping with perspiration.

Your color is very hectic. What have you been doing?

You know damn well what I've been doing.

I've been sitting here suffering.

I need my pills.

Poor dear. Let's get you back in bed and I'll get them for you.

I want my pills now!

It'll only take a second.

No!

I want my pain to go away, Annie.

Please, make it go away.

Please, Annie. Please.

It just breaks my heart to see you like this.

I've done a lot of thinking on the drive.

Here you go.

And I'm absolutely certain the main reason I've never been more popular

is because of my temper.

You must be so mad at me. The truth, now.

Well... Who doesn't let off a little steam every once in a while?

My genius needs his rest before he writes.

Footsies up.

There you go.

Here. In case you think of any ideas.

Well, I wouldn't expect too much.

Don't be silly! You'll be brilliant.

Think of me as your inspiration.

I have faith in you, my darling.

Catch this.

"My darling."

The presumption must now be that Paul Sheldon is dead.

We know that he somehow managed to crawl outside his vehicle,

but we have been unable to find his body

anywhere in the vicinity of the accident.

We also know that if anyone had found him

they would have taken him to an area hospital.

Undoubtedly he is buried somewhere out there in the snow.

We'll find him after the first thaw.

That is, unless the animals didn't get to him first,

which is a distinct possibility.

Local papers...

That was a statement from Colorado Police Chief Sherman Douglas.

The whereabouts of famed novelist Paul Sheldon is...

We will be updating you with the latest...

You don't think he's dead, do you?

Well, he might well be, but not the way they say.

He never crawled out of that car by himself.

You can see the dents on the door there.

Someone pulled him out.

I'm sorry, Paul. This is all wrong.

What?

You'll have to do it over again.

It's not worthy of you. Throw it all out.

Except for that part of naming the gravedigger after me.

You can leave that in.

I really value your criticism,

but maybe we're being a little hasty here.

Paul, what you've written just isn't fair.

Not fair?

That's right.

When I was growing up in Bakersfield,

my favorite thing in all the world

was to go to the movies on Saturday afternoons for the chapter plays.

Cliffhangers.

I know that, Mister Man!

They also call them serials. I'm not stupid, you know!

Anyway, my favorite was Rocketman,

and once it was a no-brakes chapter,

and the bad guys stuck him in a car on a mountain road,

and knocked him out and welded the doors shut

and tore out the brakes and started him to his death.

And he woke up and tried to steer and tried to get out,

but the car went off a cliff before he could escape,

and it crashed and burned

and I was so upset and excited!

And the next week, you better believe I was first in line.

And they always start with the end of the last week,

and there was Rocketman, trying to get out,

and here comes the cliff,

and just before the car went off the cliff he jumped free,

and all the kids cheered!

But I didn't cheer. I stood right up and started shouting,

"This isn't what happened last week!

Have you all got amnesia?

"They just cheated us! This isn't fair!

"He didn't get out of the cockadoodie car!"

They always cheated like that in chapter plays.

But not you. Not with my Misery.

Remember Ian did ride for Dr. Cleary

at the end of the last book, but his horse fell jumping that fence,

and Ian broke his shoulder and his ribs and lay all night in the ditch

and he never reached the doctor,

so there couldn't have been any experimental blood transfusion

that saved her life.

Misery was buried in the ground at the end, Paul,

so you'll have to start there.

Is it fair? Should I continue?

You better!

Oh, Paul! When Ian realized that

the reason they'd buried Misery alive

was because the bee sting had put her in that temporary coma!

And when Gravedigger Wilkes remembered how 30 years earlier

the same thing had happened to Lady Evelyn-Hyde!

And then old Dr. Cleary deduced that Misery

must be Lady Evelyn-Hyde's long-lost daughter

because of the rarity of deadly bee stings, my heart just leapt!

I've known from the very first book

that Misery had to be born of nobility

and I was right!

Yeah.

Paul, can I read each chapter when you're finished?

I can fill in the "N's."

Will she be her old self now that Ian has dug her out,

or will she have amnesia?

Have to wait.

Will she still love him with that special, perfect love?

You'll have to wait.

Not even a hint?

Uh-uh.

Misery's alive, Misery's alive! It's so romantic!

This whole house is gonna be filled with romance!

I'm gonna put on my Liberace records!

You do like Liberace, don't you?

Whenever he played Radio City,

who do you think was right there in the front row?

I'm gonna play my records all day long, to inspire you.

He's my all-time favorite.

Annie.

Would you have dinner with me tonight?

To celebrate Misery's Return.

I couldn't have done it without you.

Paul.

It would be an honor.

No, he's not here.

I don't know where he is.

He never tells me anything anymore.

He's probably out havin' an affair somewhere.

Wait a minute. He's comin' in now.

It's Jim Taylor.

He wants to know who you're havin' an affair with.

Hello, Jim. What's doin'?

Jim, we've been through this before.

If you're gonna have benches out in front of your store,

people are gonna want to sit on 'em.

Well, I don't like him, either,

but I'm not gonna come over there

and tell him to move.

Give my best to Denise. Bye.

Well, whoever she is, she sure likes to read a lot.

Virginia, I'm flattered that you think I've got that much energy.

I figured that if I can't find Paul Sheldon,

at least I can find out what he wrote about.

What do you expect to find?

A story about a guy who drove his car off a cliff in a snowstorm?

You see, it's just that kind of sarcasm

that's given our marriage real spice.

(SINGING) I'll be seeing you

In all the old familiar places

I hope you like it.

It looks wonderful.

So do you.

I've never had meatloaf this good. What do you do to it?

My secret is I only use fresh tomatoes, never canned.

And to give it that little extra zip,

I mix in some Spam with the ground beef.

Can't get this in a restaurant in New York.

Let's have a toast.

A toast?

Yes. To Misery.

Let me pour you some wine.

To Misery.

Wait. Let's do this right. Do you have any candles?

I don't know. I think so.

I'll go look.

Did you study decorating or do you just have a flair?

Oh, you!

I just picked things up over the years.

Well, it certainly says you.

You really think so?

Absolutely.

Listen, if you can't find any, it's okay.

I just thought it'd be nice.

Are you kidding? If anyone had ever told me that one day

I'd be having a candlelit dinner

with Paul Sheldon in my own house,

I would have checked both legs

to see which one was bein' pulled!

Will this do?

It's perfect.

To Misery and to Annie Wilkes, who brought her back to life.

Paul, I get goose bumps every time I think about it!

My God, what have I done?

I'm so sorry, Paul!

I ruined your beautiful toast!

Will you ever forgive me?

Here, let me pour another one.

Can we pretend this never happened?

To Misery.

To Misery.

Paul, this is positively the best Misery you've ever written.

Here's your pills.

Annie?

Annie, what is it?

The rain.

Sometimes it gives me the blues.

When you first came here,

I only loved the writer part of Paul Sheldon.

But now I know I love the rest of him, too.

I know you don't love me.

Don't say you do.

You're a beautiful, brilliant, famous man of the world

and I'm not a movie-star type.

You'll never know the fear of losing someone like you,

if you're someone like me.

Why would you lose me?

The book's almost finished.

Your legs are getting better.

Soon you'll be wanting to leave.

Why would I leave? I like it here.

That's very kind of you, but I'll bet it's not altogether true.

I have this gun.

Sometimes I think about using it.

I better go now.

I might put bullets in it.

"There is a justice higher than that of man.

"I will be judged by Him."

What?

They're haulin' Misery into court.

That's nice.

There is a justice higher than that of man.

I will be judged by Him.

See you in the morning.

I'm supposed to lead to the finale of my show right now,

but I'm having such a wonderful time that I have...

Paul.

Hmm?

I know you've been out.

What?

You've been out of your room.

No, I haven't.

Paul, my little ceramic penguin

in the study always faces due south.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Ceramic penguin?

Is this what you're looking for?

I know you've been out twice, Paul.

At first I couldn't figure out how you did it,

but last night I found your key.

I know I left my scrapbook out.

I can imagine what you might be thinking of me.

But you see, Paul, it's all okay.

Last night it came so clear.

I realize you just need more time.

Eventually you'll come to accept the idea of being here.

Paul, do you know about the early days

at the Kimberley diamond mines?

Do you know what they did to the native workers who stole diamonds?

Don't worry. They didn't kill them.

That would be like junking a Mercedes

just because it had a broken spring.

No, if they caught them they had to make sure

they could go on working,

but they also had to make sure they could never run away.

The operation was called "hobbling."

Annie, whatever you're thinking about doing,

please don't do it.

Annie, for God's...

Darling. Trust me.

God's sake!

It's for the best.

Annie, please!

Almost done. Just one more.

God, I love you.

You cockadoodie!

Turn on this!

You poop!

Just leave it, all right?

I like that tone!

How many times do I have to tell you?

I have a system here! Where the hell is that thing?

What thing?

The thing!

Here it is, right where it's supposed to be.

What is it?

I'm not sure. Maybe nothin'.

Well, I'm glad you found it.

There's that spice again.

Come on, Misie. Come on.

Hi, pumpkin.

Such a kidder! Come on, Misery.

Hey, Pete.

Buster.

Answer me a couple things.

If I can.

Do you have any new Paul Sheldon books?

Well, we had a batch.

Sold 'em all out in three days.

You wouldn't happen to know if Miss Wilkes bought one of them, would you?

Are you kiddin'? Every time that fella writes a new book,

she has me set aside the first copy.

Has she been buyin' anything odd lately?

Miss Wilkes? Same old stuff.

Lest you call paper odd.

Newspaper?

No. The typin' kind.

That kind. Nothin' odd about that.

Miss Wilkes done somethin'?

Not a thing.

I don't think I'll ever understand you. I cook your meals,

I tend to you practically 24 hours a day,

and you continue to fight me.

When are we going to develop a sense of trust?

Oh, my.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,

but you didn't give me a chance to knock.

I guess you can tell from my reaction

I'm not all that used to visitors out here.

What can I do for you?

Well, I was wonderin', do you happen to know anything

about Paul Sheldon?

What do you want to know?

Well, anything you could tell me might help.

Well, he was born in Worcester, Massachusetts, 45 years ago,

the only child of Franklin and Helene Sheldon,

mediocre student, majored in History...

Well that... That isn't exactly the kind of information I'm after.

You see, he's been missin' for quite some time now...

I know. It's so upsetting.

I'm his number-one fan.

I've got all his books. Every sentence he ever put down.

I'm so proud of my Paul Sheldon collection.

Well, here I am, prattling on,

and my manners have just flown away.

I haven't invited you in. Please.

Thank you.

Of course, you must know all about that horrible accident.

Mind if I take a look around?

Of course not.

That accident almost killed me, too.

I prayed when I heard the news.

I got down on my knees and I begged for it not to be true.

You're gonna laugh at what I'm about to say,

but go ahead, I don't care.

When I was praying, God told me to get ready.

Get ready for what?

To be his replacement.

He gave so much pleasure to so many people,

and there's a shortage of pleasure on the planet these days,

in case you hadn't noticed.

God told me, since I was his number-one fan,

that I should make up new stories as if I was Paul Sheldon.

So I went to town, and I bought a typewriter,

and paper to type on,

the same kind Paul Sheldon used.

And I turned the guest bedroom into a writing studio.

Would you like to see it?

Sure.

It's right this way.

I know how he wrote. The kinds of words he used,

the wonderful stories he told.

I've spent the last four weeks

trying to write like Paul Sheldon,

but I can't do it right.

I try and I try, and I know all the words, but it's just not the same.

Well, maybe it takes a while to get the hang of it.

I could give you a couple of hundred pages of mine

and you could tell me what you think.

I'm not much of a critic.

Well, I just thought...

Oh, look at me. You'd think I'd never had a guest before!

Would you like a nice hot cup of cocoa?

No, really, I don't...

It's no trouble.

There's some already made.

Must get lonely, livin' out here all by yourself.

Well, I always say, if you can't enjoy your own company,

you're not fit company for anyone else.

Well, you've got a point there.

Here you are.

Well, thanks, Miss Wilkes,

but I don't want to take up any more of your time.

I best be goin'.

But you didn't even taste your cocoa.

I'm sure it's wonderful, but I really should be gettin' back.

If you wouldn't mind, perhaps I could

pay you another visit sometime.

I'd be delighted, now that you know the way.

Miss Wilkes?

Miss Wilkes, are you all right?

Here!

Here! I'm down here!

I'm down here!

Mr. Sheldon?

Don't feel bad, Paul.

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

It's a sign.

You see, I've known for some time why I was chosen to save you.

You and I were meant to be together forever.

But now our time in this world must end.

But don't worry, Paul.

I've prepared for what must be done.

I put two bullets in my gun, one for you and one for me.

Darling, it'll be so beautiful.

Now don't be afraid.

I love you.

I love you, too.

And you're right. We are meant to be together.

And I know we must die.

But it must be so that Misery can live.

We have the power to give Misery eternal life.

We must finish the book.

But the time is now. Soon others will come.

It's almost finished.

By dawn

we'll be able to give Misery back to the world.

I'll fix you something to eat.

Paul, I'm dying!

Does she wind up with Ian or Windthorne?

You'll know very soon.

I've just started the last chapter.

You know, when I finish, I'd like everything to be perfect.

I'll need three things.

What things?

You mean you don't know?

I was foolin', silly.

You need a cigarette, because you used to smoke but you quit,

except when you finish a book, and you have just one.

And the match is to light it,

and you need one glass of champagne, Dom Perignon.

Dom Perignon it is.

Annie, Annie?

Yes, Paul?

I'm almost done.

Oh, Paul, this is so romantic!

Ian and Windthorne dueling for the right to Misery's hand.

Does Ian win? Don't tell me.

It's Windthorne, right?

You'll know everything in a minute.

Get the champagne.

Did I do good?

You did perfect.

Except for one thing.

This time we'll need two glasses.

Oh, Paul.

Remember how, for all those years,

nobody knew who Misery's real father was?

Or if they'd ever be reunited?

It's all right here.

Does she finally marry Ian, or will it be Windthorne?

It's all right here.

Paul, you can't!

Why not? I learned it from you.

No, no, no! Not Misery! Not my Misery!

No! Not my Misery!

I'm gonna kill you, you lying cocksucker!

Here, you want it? You want it? Eat it!

Eat it till you choke, you sick, twisted fuck!

This is it. The very first copy.

The word I'm getting is the Times review is gonna be a love letter.

That'll be a first.

And my contacts at Time and Newsweek tell me they're both raves.

And don't laugh, but for the first time

I think you've got a shot at some prizes.

Great.

I thought you'd be thrilled.

You're being taken seriously.

I'm delighted the critics are liking it

and I hope the people like it, too.

But I wrote it for me.

Now, don't think I'm completely nuts, but...

In some way, Annie Wilkes,

that whole experience,

helped me.

Paul, since you brought her up,

I have to ask you this or I'll be drummed out of the agents' union.

How would you feel about a non-fiction book

about what went on in that house?

Gee, Marcia, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you were suggesting

I dredge up the worst horror of my life

just so we can make a few bucks.

I thought you were over it.

I don't know if anyone could ever totally get over something like that.

It's weird.

Even though I know she's dead,

I still think about her once in a while.

Excuse me. I don't mean to bother you, but are you Paul Sheldon?

Yes.

I just want to tell you I'm your number-one fan.

That's very sweet of you.

(SINGING) I'll be seeing you

In all the old familiar places

That this heart of mine embraces

All day through

In that small cafe

The park across the way

The children's carousel

The chestnut trees

The wishin' well

I'll be seeing you

In every lovely summer's day

In every thing that's light and gay

I'll always think of you that way

I'll find you In the morning sun

And when the night is new

I'll be looking at the moon

But I'll be seeing you

I'll be seeing you

In every lovely summer's day

I'll be seeing you in every thing that's light and gay

I'll always think of you that way

I'll find you In the morning sun

And when the night is new

I'll be looking at the moon

But I'll be seeing you