"MISERY"
by
William Goldman
Based on the Novel by
Stephen King
FADE IN ON:
A SINGLE CIGARETTE. A MATCH. A HOTEL ICE BUCKET that holds a
bottle of champagne. The cigarette is unlit. The match is of
the kitchen variety. The champagne, unopened, is Dom Perignon.
There is only one sound at first: a strong WIND--
--now another sound, sharper--a sudden burst of TYPING as we
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
PAUL SHELDON typing at a table in his hotel suite. It's really
a cabin that's part of a lodge. Not an ornate place. Western
themed.
He is framed by a window looking out at some gorgeous
mountains. It's afternoon. The sky is grey. Snow is scattered
along the ground. We're out west somewhere. The WIND grows
stronger--there could be a storm.
PAUL pays no attention to what's going on outside as he
continues to type.
He's the hero of what follows. Forty-two, he's got a good
face, one with a certain mileage to it. We are not, in other
words, looking at a virgin. He's been a novelist for eighteen
years and for half that time, the most recent half, a
remarkably successful one.
He pauses for a moment, intently, as if trying to stare a
hole in the paper. Now his fingers fly, and there's another
burst of TYPING. He studies what he's written, then--
CUT TO:
THE PAPER, as he rolls it out of the machine, puts it on the
table, prints, in almost childlike letters, these words:
THE END
CUT TO:
A PILE OF MANUSCRIPT at the rear of the table. He puts this
last page on, gets it straight and in order, hoists it up,
folds it to his chest, the entire manuscript--hundreds of
pages.
CUT TO:
PAUL, as he holds his book to him. He is, just for a brief
moment, moved.
CUT TO:
A SUITCASE across the room. PAUL goes to it, opens it and
pulls something out from inside: a battered red leather
briefcase. Now he takes his manuscript, carefully opens the
briefcase, gently puts the manuscript inside. He closes it,
and the way he handles it, he might almost be handling a
child. Now he crosses over, opens the champagne, pours himself
a single glass, lights the one cigarette with the lone match--
there is a distinct feeling of ritual about this. He inhales
deeply, makes a toasting gesture, then drinks, smokes, smiles.
HOLD BRIEFLY, then--
CUT TO:
LODGE - DAY
PAUL--exiting his cabin. He stops, makes a snowball, throws
it, hitting a sign.
PAUL
Still got it.
He throws a suitcase into the trunk of his '65 MUSTANG and,
holding his leather case, he hops into the car and drives
away.
CUT TO:
A SIGN that reads "Silver Creek Lodge." Behind the sign is
the hotel itself--old, desolate. Now the '65 Mustang comes
out of the garage, guns ahead toward the sign. As "Shotgun"
by Jr. Walker and the Allstars starts, he heads off into the
mountains.
CUT TO:
THE SKY. Gun-metal grey. The clouds seem pregnant with snow.
CUT TO:
PAUL, driving the Mustang, the battered briefcase on the
seat beside him.
CUT TO:
THE ROAD AHEAD. Little dainty flakes of snow are suddenly
visible.
CUT TO:
THE CAR, going into a curve and
CUT TO:
PAUL, driving, and as he comes out of the curve, a stunned
look hits his face as we
CUT TO:
THE ROAD AHEAD--and here it comes--a mountain storm; it's as
if the top has been pulled off the sky and with no warning
whatsoever, we're into a blizzard and
CUT TO:
THE MUSTANG, slowing, driving deeper into the mountains.
CUT TO:
PAUL, squinting ahead, windshield wipers on now.
CUT TO:
THE MUSTANG, rounding another curve, losing traction--
CUT TO:
PAUL, a skilled driver, bringing the car easily under control.
CUT TO:
THE ROAD
Snow is piling up.
CUT TO:
PAUL driving confidently, carefully. Now he reaches out,
ejects the tape, expertly turns it over, pushes it in and,
as the MUSIC continues, he hums along with it.
CUT TO:
THE SKY. Only you can't see it.
There's nothing to see but the unending snow, nothing to
hear but the wind which keeps getting wilder.
CUT TO:
THE ROAD. Inches of snow on the ground now. This is desolate
and dangerous.
CUT TO:
PAUL, driving.
CUT TO:
THE SNOW. Worse.
CUT TO:
THE ROAD, curving sharply, drop ping. A sign reads: "Curved
Road, Next 13 Miles."
CUT TO:
THE MUSTANG, coming into view, hitting the curve--no problem--
no problem at all--and then suddenly, there is a very serious
problem and as the car skids out of control--
CUT TO:
PAUL, doing his best, fighting the conditions and just as it
looks like he's got things going his way--
CUT TO:
THE ROAD, swerving down and
CUT TO:
THE MUSTANG, all traction gone and
CUT TO:
PAUL, helpless and
CUT TO:
THE MUSTANG, skidding, skidding and
CUT TO:
THE ROAD as it drops more steeply away and the wind whips
the snow across and
CUT TO:
THE MUSTANG starting to spin and
CUT TO:
THE MOUNTAINSIDE as the car skids off the road, careens down,
slams into a tree, bounces off, flips, lands upside down,
skids, stops finally, dead.
HOLD ON THE CAR A MOMENT
There is still the sound of the WIND, and there is still the
music coming from the tape, perhaps the only part of the car
left undamaged. Nothing moves inside. There is only the WIND
and the TAPE. The wind gets louder.
CUT TO:
THE WRECK looked at from a distance. The MUSIC sounds are
only faintly heard.
CUT TO:
THE AREA WHERE THE WRECK IS--AS SEEN FROM THE ROAD. The car
is barely visible as the snow begins to cover it.
CUT TO:
THE WRECK from outside, and we're close to it now, with the
snow coming down ever harder--already bits of the car are
covered in white.
CAMERA MOVES IN TO
PAUL. He's inside and doing his best to fight is, but his
consciousness is going. He tries to keep his eyes open but
they're slits.
Slowly, he manages to reach out with his left arm for his
briefcase--
--and he clutches it to his battered body. The MUSIC continues
on.
But PAUL is far from listening. His eyes flutter, flutter
again. Now they're starting to close.
The man is dying.
Motionless, he still clutches the battered briefcase.
HOLD ON THE CASE. Then--
DISSOLVE TO:
The BRIEFCASE in Paul's hands as he sits at a desk.
SINDELL (O.S.)
What's that?
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
We are in New York City in the office of Paul's literary
agent, MARCIA SINDELL. The walls of the large room are
absolutely crammed with book and movie posters, in English
and all other kinds of other languages, all of them featuring
the character of MISERY CHASTAIN, a perfectly beautiful woman.
Misery's Challenge, Misery's Triumph--eight of them. All
written by Paul Sheldon.
CUT TO:
PAUL, lifting up the battered briefcase--maybe when new it
cost two bucks, but he treats it like gold.
PAUL
An old friend. I was rummaging through
a closet and it was just sitting
there. Like it was waiting for me.
CUT TO:
SINDELL
(searching for a
compliment)
It's... it's nice, Paul. It's got...
character.
CUT TO:
THE TWO OF THEM
PAUL
When I wrote my first book, I used
to carry it around in this while I
was looking for a publisher. That
was a good book, Marcia. I was a
writer then.
SINDELL
You're still a writer.
PAUL
I haven't been a writer since I got
into the Misery business--
SINDELL
(holding up the cover
art of MISERY'S CHILD)
Not a bad business. This thing would
still be growing, too. The first
printing order on Misery's Child was
the most ever--over a million.
PAUL
Marcia, please.
SINDELL
No, no. Misery Chastain put braces
on your daughter's teeth and is
putting her through college, bought
you two houses and floor seats to
the Knick games and what thanks does
she get? You go and kill her.
PAUL
Marcia, you know I started "Misery"
on a lark. Do I look like a guy who
writes romance novels? Do I sound
like Danielle Steel? It was a one-
time shot and we got lucky. I never
meant it to become my life. And if I
hadn't gotten rid of her now, I'd
have ended up writing her forever.
(touches his briefcase)
For the first time in fifteen years,
I think I'm really onto something
here.
SINDELL
I'm glad to hear that, Paul, I really
am. But you have to know--when your
fans find out that you killed off
their favorite heroine, they're not
going to say, "Ooh, good, Paul Sheldon
can finally write what we've always
wanted: An esoteric, semi-
autobiographical character study.
PAUL
(passionately)
Marcia, why are you doing this to
me? Don't you know I'm scared enough?
Don't you think I remember how nobody
gave a shit about my first books?
You think I'm dying to go back to
shouting in the wilderness?
(beat)
I'm doing this because I have to.
(Marcia is stopped)
Now, I'm leaving for Colorado to try
to finish this and I want your good
thoughts--because if I can make it
work ...
(beat)
I might just have something that I
want on my tombstone.
On the word "tombstone"
CUT TO:
PAUL'S TOMBSTONE--the upside down car with the blizzard coming
gale-force and his motionless body trapped inside the car.
The WIND screams. PAUL'S EYES flutter, then close.
Hold
Keep holding as--
Suddenly there's a new sound as a crowbar SCRATCHES at the
door--
-- nd now the door is ripped open as we
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
A BUNDLED-UP FIGURE gently beginning to pull PAUL and the
case from the car. For a moment, it's hard to tell if it's a
man or woman--
--not to let the cat out of the bag or anything, but it is,
very much, a woman. Her name is ANNIE WILKES and she is close
to Paul's age. She is in many ways a remarkable creature.
Strong, self-sufficient, passionate in her likes and dislikes,
loves and hates.
CUT TO:
PAUL AND ANNIE as she cradles him in her arms. Once he's
clear of the car, she lays him carefully in the snow
CUT TO:
PAUL AND ANNIE: CLOSE UP. She slowly brings her mouth down
close to his. Then their lips touch as she forces air inside
him.
ANNIE
(Their lips touch
again. Then--)
You hear me--Breathe! I said
breathe!!!
CUT TO:
PAUL, as he starts to breathe--
--in a moment his eyes suddenly open wide, but he's in shock,
the eyes see nothing--
CUT TO:
ANNIE--the moment she sees him come to life, she goes into
action, lifting PAUL in a fireman's carry, starting the
difficult climb back up the steep hill.
As she moves away, she and Paul are obliterated by the white
falling snow.
DISSOLVE TO:
THE WHITE OF WHAT SEEMS LIKE A HOSPITAL. Everything is bled
of color. It's all vague--
--we are looking at this from Paul's blurred vision.
And throughout this next sequence, there are these SOUNDS,
words really, but they make no sense.
"...no... worry...
...be... fine...
...good care... you...
...I'm your number one fan..."
The first thing we see during this is something all white.
It takes a moment before we realize it's a ceiling.
Now, a white wall.
An I.V. bottle is next, the medicine dripping down a tube
into PAUL'S LEFT ARM. The other arm is bandaged and in a
sling.
ANNIE is standing beside the bed. She wears off-white and
seems very much like a nurse. A good nurse. She has pills in
her hands.
CUT TO:
PAUL. Motionless, dead pale. He has a little beard now. Eyes
barely open, he's shaking with fever.
PAUL
(hardly able to whisper)
...where... am I...?
ANNIE is quickly by his side.
ANNIE
(so gently)
Shhh... we're just outside Silver
Creek.
PAUL
How long...?
ANNIE
You've been here two days. You're
gonna be okay.
(relieved)
My name is Annie Wilkes and I'm--
PAUL
--my number one fan.
And now the gibberish words make sense.
ANNIE
That's right. I'm also a nurse. Here.
(Now, as she brings
the pills close)
Take these.
She helps him to swallow, as Paul's eyes close.
DISSOLVE TO:
AN EXTERIOR OF THE PLACE. It's a farmhouse--we 're in a
desolate area with mountains in the background.
THE HOUSE is set on a knoll so that Paul's room, although on
the first floor, is ten feet off the ground.
CUT TO:
PAUL, in the room. He's not on the I.V. anymore. His fever
has broken. Annie enters, pills in her hand.
ANNIE
Here.
PAUL
What are they...?
ANNIE
They're called Novril--they're for
your pain.
(helps him take them)
ANNIE applies a cool rag to his forehead.
PAUL
Shouldn't I be in a hospital?
ANNIE
The blizzard was too strong. I
couldn't risk trying to get you there.
I tried calling, but the phone lines
are down.
PAUL tries to test his left arm.
ANNIE
(Gently, her fingers
go to his eyelids,
close them)
Now you mustn't tire yourself. You've
got to rest, you almost died.
CUT TO:
ANNIE: CLOSE UP. Sometimes her face shows the most remarkable
compassion. It does now.
HOLD ON IT briefly.
DISSOLVE TO:
CLOSE UP ON PILLS IN ANNIE'S HAND
ANNIE (O.S.)
Open wide.
CUT TO:
PAUL'S ROOM
He lies in bed. His fever is gone, but he's terribly weak.
CUT TO:
ANNIE. As she lays the pills on PAUL'S TONGUE, she gives him
a glass of water from the nearby bed table.
CUT TO:
PAUL, swallowing eagerly.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, watching him, sympathetically.
ANNIE
Your legs just sing grand opera when
you move, don't they?
(Paul says nothing,
but his pain is clear)
It's not going to hurt forever, Paul,
I promise you.
PAUL
Will I be able to walk?
ANNIE
Of course you will. And your arm
will be fine, too. Your shoulder was
dislocated pretty badly, but I finally
popped it back in there.
(proudly)
But 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
have done any better.
And now suddenly she flicks off the blankets, uncovering his
body.
CUT TO:
PAUL, staring, stunned at the bottom half of his body as we
CUT TO:
PAUL'S LEGS. From the knees down he resembles an Egyptian
mummy--she's splinted them with slim steel rods that look
like the hacksawed remains of aluminum crutches and there's
taping circling around.
From the kness up they're all swollen and throbbing and
horribly bruised and discolored.
CUT TO:
PAUL, lying back, stunned with disbelief.
ANNIE
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 left 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.
CUT TO:
ANNIE: CLOSE UP
ANNIE
In the meantime, you've got a lot of
recovering to do, and I consider it
an honor that you'll do it in my
home.
HOLD on her ecstatic face.
Then--
CUT TO:
MISERY'S PERFECT FACE. We're back in SINDELL's office in New
York. The office looks just the same, posters and manuscripts
all over. But she doesn't.
She holds the phone and she is fidgety, insecure.
SINDELL
This is Marcia Sindell calling from
New York City. I'd like to speak to
the Silver Creek Chief of Police or
the Sheriff.
MALE VOICE (O.S.)
Which one do you want?
SINDELL
Whichever one's not busy.
CUT TO:
SMALL OFFICE IN SILVER CREEK
...with a view of the mountains.
A MARVELOUS LOOKING MAN sits at a desk, by himself, holding
the phone. In his sixties, he's still as bright, fast and
sassy as he was half-a-lifetime ago. Never mind what his
name is, everyone calls him BUSTER.
BUSTER
I'm pretty sure they 're both not
busy, Ms. 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?
CUT TO:
SINDELL in her office. She pushes the speakerphone, gets up,
paces; she's very hesitant when she speaks about Paul. Almost
embarrassed--
SINDELL
I'm a literary agent, and I feel
like a fool calling you, but I think
one of my clients, Paul Sheldon,
might be in some kind of trouble.
BUSTER
Paul Sheldon? You mean Paul Sheldon
the writer?
SINDELL
Yes.
BUSTER
He's your client, huh?
SINDELL
Yes, he is.
CUT TO:
BUSTER'S OFFICE
He rolls a penny across the back of one hand--he's very good
at it, doesn't even look while he does it.
BUSTER
People sure like those Misery books.
SINDELL
I'm sure you know Paul's been going
to the Silver Creek Lodge for years
to finish his books.
BUSTER
Yeah, I understand he's been up here
the last six weeks.
SINDELL
Not quite. I just called, and they
said he checked out five days ago.
Isn't that a little strange?
BUSTER
I don't know. Does he always phone
you when he checks out of hotels?
CUT TO:
SINDELL, really embarrassed now.
SINDELL
No, no, of course not. It's just
that his daughter hasn't heard from
him, and when he's got a book coming
out, he usually keeps in touch. So
when there was no word from him...
BUSTER
You think he might be missing?
SINDELL
(shakes her head)
I hate that I made this call--tell
me I'm being silly.
CUT TO:
BUSTER. He nods as a WOMAN enters, carrying lunch. It's his
wife, VIRGINIA. She begins putting the food down on a table
for the both of them.
BUSTER
Just a little over-protective, maybe.
(beat)
Tell you what--nothing's been reported
out here--
(he puts Paul Sheldon's
name with a ? on a 3
x 5 CARD)
--but I'll put his name through our
system.
(he tacks the card to
a bulletin board)
And if anything turns up, I'll call
you right away.
CUT TO:
SINDELL. She smiles, a genuine sense of relief.
SINDELL
I appreciate that. Thanks a lot.
CUT TO:
BUSTER
BUSTER
G'bye, Ms. Sindell.
As he hangs up--
VIRGINIA
We actually got a phone call. Busy
morning.
BUSTER
(smiles)
Work, work, work.
(gives her a hug)
Virginia? When was that blizzard?
VIRGINIA
Four or five days ago. Why?
CUT TO:
BUSTER. The penny flies across the back of his hand. He
doesn't look at it, stares instead out the window at the
mountains.
BUSTER
(a beat)
...no reason...
HOLD ON BUSTER for a moment.
CUT TO:
PAUL'S ROOM
PAUL'S VOICE
(soft)
I guess it was kind of a miracle...
you finding me...
ANNIE's soft, sweet laughter is heard. She stands over him,
finishing shaving him with a very sharp straight razor. She
wears what we will come to know as her regular costume--plain
wool skirts, grey cardigan sweaters.
ANNIE
No, it wasn't a miracle at all... in
a way, I was following you.
PAUL
Following me?
ANNIE concentrates on shaving him with great care; she has
wonderful, strong hands.
ANNIE
(explaining, normally)
Well, it wasn't any secret to me
that 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, sit outside
and look up at the light in your
cabin--
(gently moves his
head back, exposing
his neck; this next
is said with total
sincerity, almost
awe)
and I'd try to imagine what was going
on in the room of the world's greatest
writer.
PAUL
Say that last part again, I didn't
quite hear--
ANNIE
(smiles)
Don't move now--wouldn't want to
hurt this neck--
(shaving away)
Well, the other afternoon I was on
my way home, and there you were,
leaving the Lodge, and I wondered
why a literary genius would go for a
drive when there was a big storm
coming.
PAUL
I didn't know it was going to be a
big storm.
ANNIE
Lucky for you, I did.
(pauses)
Lucky for me too. Because now you're
alive and you can write more books.
Oh, Paul, I've read everything of
Yours, but the Misery novels...
CUT TO:
ANNIE: CLOSE UP
ANNIE
I know them all by heart, Paul, all
eight of them. I love them so.
CUT TO:
PAUL, looking at her. There's something terribly touching
about her now.
PAUL
You're very kind...
ANNIE
And you're very brilliant, and you
must be a good man, or you could
never have created such a wondrous,
loving creature as Misery Chastain.
(runs her fingers
over his cheek)
Like a baby.
(smiles)
All done.
(starts to dab away
the last bits of
soap)
ANNIE starts cleaning up.
PAUL
When do you think the phone lines'll
be back up? I have to call my
daughter, and I should call New York
and let my agent know I'm breathing.
ANNIE
It shouldn't be too much longer.
(gently)
Once the roads are open, the lines'll
be up in no time. If you give me
their numbers, I'll keep trying them
for you.
(suddenly almost
embarrassed)
Could I ask you a favor?
(Paul nods)
I noticed in your case there was a
new Paul Sheldon book and...
(hesitant)
and I wondered if maybe...
(her voice trails off)
PAUL
You want to read it?
ANNIE
(quietly)
If you wouldn't mind.
PAUL
I have a hard and fast rule about
who can read my stuff at this early
stage--only my editor, my agent, and
anyone who saves me from freezing to
death in a car wreck.
ANNIE
(genuinely thrilled)
You'll never realize what a rare
treat you've given me.
CUT TO:
PAUL. His eyes close briefly, he grimaces.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, watching him, concerned. She glances at her watch.
ANNIE
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.
She turns and goes out of the room.
CUT TO:
PAUL, watching her.
ANNIE
What's your new book called?
PAUL
I don't have a title yet.
ANNIE
What's it about?
PAUL
(fast)
It's crazy, but I don't really know,
I mean I haven't written anything
but "Misery" for so long that--you
read it you can tell me what you
think it's about. Maybe you can come
up with a title.
ANNIE
(in the doorway)
Oh, like I could do that?
CUT TO:
THE MANAGER'S OFFICE AT THE SILVER CREEK LODGE
Small, neat, one window--outside, snow covers all.
BUSTER AND LIBBY, THE MANAGER, are going over books and
records. Libby is an old guy, walks with a cane.
LIBBY
Nothing unusual about Mr. Sheldon's
leaving, Buster--you can tell by the
champagne.
BUSTER
Maybe you can, Libby.
LIBBY
No, see, he always ordered a bottle
of Dom Perignon when he was ready to
go. Then he'd pay up and be out the
door.
BUSTER
No long-distance phone calls, Federal
Express packages--anything at all
out of the ordinary?
LIBBY
(head shake)
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 have airs. Drives
the same car out from New York each
time--'65 Mustang--said it helps him
think. He was always a good guest,
never made a noise, never bothered a
soul. Sure hope nothing happened to
him.
BUSTER
So do I...
LIBBY
I'll bet that old Mustang's pulling
into New York right now.
BUSTER
I'm sure you're right.
But you can tell he's not sure at all as we
CUT TO:
A SPOON FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH BEEF BARLEY SOUP
CUT TO:
PAUL'S ROOM.
He lies in bed. Sun comes in the lone window. ANNIE sits on
the bed, a large bowl of soup in her hands, feeding him.
ANNIE
(almost shy about
this)
I know I'm only forty pages into
your book, but...
She stops, fills the spoon up again.
PAUL
But what?
ANNIE
Nothing.
PAUL
No, what is it?
ANNIE
Oh, it's ridiculous, who am I to
make a criticism to someone like
you?
PAUL
I can take it, go ahead.
ANNIE
Well, it's brilliantly written, but
then everything you write is
brilliant.
PAUL
Pretty rough so far.
ANNIE
(a burst)
The swearing, Paul.
(beat)
There, I said it.
PAUL
The profanity bothers you?
ANNIE
It has no nobility.
PAUL
Well, these are slum kids, I was a
slum kid, everybody talks like that.
CUT TO:
ANNIE. She holds the soup bowl in one hand, the muddy-colored
beef barley soup close to spilling.
ANNIE
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
effing pigfeed and ten pounds of
that bitchly cow-corn"--
PAUL is amused by this.
CUT TO:
THE SOUP, almost spilling as she gets more agitated.
ANNIE
--and in the bank do I tell Mrs.
Bollinger, "Here's one big bastard
of a check, give me some of your
Christing money."
CUT TO:
PAUL, almost laughing as some soup hits the coverlet.
ANNIE
(seeing the spill,
suddenly upset)
There! Look there! See what you made
me do!
CUT TO:
PAUL--his smile disappears.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, and she is just totally embarrassed.
ANNIE
Oh, Paul, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
Sometimes I get so worked up. Can
you ever forgive me? Here...
She hands him his pills and starts to clean the soup off the
coverlet. Then she makes the sweetest smile.
ANNIE
I love you, Paul.
(more embarrassed
than ever)
Your mind. Your creativity--that's
all I meant.
Flustered, she turns away as we--
CUT TO:
A ROAD IN THE MOUNTAINS. Piles of snow all around but it's
been ploughed enough so it's driveable.
CUT TO:
A CAR coming into view. Up ahead is the sign we've already
seen: "Curved Road, Next 13 Miles."
CUT TO:
INSIDE THE CAR
BUSTER AND HIS WIFE VIRGINIA: Virginia is driving while Buster
intently studies the terrain. He reaches for a large thermos,
pours some coffee, offers it to her. She shakes her head. He
begins to sip it.
VIRGINIA
This sure is fun.
She puts her hand on his leg.
BUSTER
(removing it)
Virginia, when you're in this car,
you're not my wife, you're my deputy.
VIRGINIA
Well, this deputy would rather be
home under the covers with the
Sheriff.
CUT TO:
THE CAR. Suddenly, it goes into a little icy spin--she fights
it back under control.
CUT TO:
INSIDE THE CAR
BUSTER
(suddenly)
Stop--stop right here.
VIRGINIA
What? What is it?
CUT TO:
THE CAR, skidding, slowing, stopping. BOTH OF THEM get out,
go to the edge of the road. Mountains of snow. Nothing much
else visible. Then Buster points.
BUSTER
Look at that broken branch there...
CUT TO:
VIRGINIA, seeing it, unconvinced.
VIRGINIA
Could be the weight of the snow.
BUSTER
Could be--or a rotten branch or a
mountain lion could have landed on
it. Could be a lot of things.
He steps off the road, starts down.
CUT TO:
VIRGINIA, watching him, worried--it's very slippery.
CUT TO:
BUSTER, graceful, in great shape, navigating down easily.
CUT TO:
THE TREE that the car ran into. BUSTER reaches it, studies
it.
CUT TO:
VIRGINIA, staring out after him--she can't see him because
the drop is both too steep and covered with trees and mounds
of snow.
VIRGINIA
Anything down there?
BUSTER'S VOICE (O.S.)
Yeah. An enormous amount of snow.
CUT TO:
BUSTER. He's moved away from the tree now, going toward where
the Mustang is buried.
CUT TO:
THE MOUND OF SNOW with the Mustang inside.
CUT TO:
BUSTER, making his way closer to it, closer, staring around.
CUT TO:
THE AREA. Nothing to be seen--everything is covered with
mountains of snow. You could have a house down there and not
be able to see it. Just glaring white.
CUT TO:
BUSTER, angry, frustrated, turning around and around and
CUT TO:
BUSTER from another angle, from behind the mound with the
Mustang inside--and out of his sight, glistening in the sun,
a bit of the door protrudes. But, of course, Buster can't
see it.
HOLD ON BUSTER, in a sour mood, staring around as the edge
of the door continues to glisten.
CUT TO:
VIRGINIA, on the road as Buster makes his way back up, still
ticked.
VIRGINIA
(they move to the car)
You really think Sheldon's out there?
BUSTER
Hope not--if he is, he's dead. Let's
go to the newspaper office.
As they get in the car--
ANOTHER CAR DRIVING BY--it's Annie in her Jeep--neither she
nor Buster notice each other.
CUT TO:
PAUL'S ROOM
The door opens and ANNIE enters.
ANNIE
Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake
you.
PAUL
It's fine.
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
Paul's eyes fluttering awake to see the hardback copy of his
novel, Misery's Child, in Annie's hands. She's never been
more excited--
ANNIE
They had it at the store, Paul, there
was a whole batch of them there. As
soon as I saw it, I slammed my money
down. I got the first copy.
PAUL
Then the roads are open...
ANNIE
The one to town is, but that's about
it. I called the hospital and talked
to the head orthopedic surgeon. 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.
PAUL
The phones are working?
ANNIE
Well, mine's still out. But the ones
in town were working just fine. I
called that agent of yours.
(soft now)
Oh, Paul, I peeked at the very
beginning.
(looks at him)
What a wonderful first page--just to
read the name Misery Chastain...
PAUL
My daughter must be going nuts.
ANNIE
...it's like a visit from my oldest,
dearest friend.
PAUL
I was supposed to be home for her
birthday three days ago.
ANNIE
Your agent said she would tell her
you were okay. But I'm afraid you'll
have to wait until tomorrow if you
want to speak to her yourself.
She starts to leave, stops at the door.
ANNIE
(She looks at him now
with almost a look
of amazement)
Oh, Paul, what a poet you are...
As she leaves--
DISSOLVE TO:
PAUL, watching as she enters, moves to him, carrying a tray.
ANNIE
I made you my speciality--scrambled
eggs a la Wilkes. And I'm on page
75.
PAUL
I guess that means it's okay.
ANNIE
No. No, it isn't, it's--
(halts)
--oh pooh, I can't think of any words.
Would "great" be insulting?
PAUL
I can live with "great."
He starts, with effort, to eat.
ANNIE
(as she turns, goes)
No, it's not just great, it's perfect,
a perfect, perfect thing.
CUT TO:
PAUL'S ROOM. MID-AFTERNOON
ANNIE is clearing Paul's tray. She hands him his Novril; he
quickly swallows them.
ANNIE
I'm up to page 185. I always get sad
when I pass the halfway point. Will
you do me a favor? I'd love it if
you would autograph my copy. I already
have your autograph on a picture,
but it would mean so much to me to
get it in person. I know you're right-
handed, so don't worry if it's not
so legible. I'll cherish it anyway.
As PAUL signs the book:
ANNIE
I don't mean to pry, but I've read
in two magazines now where you were
seeing this model who does those
disgusting jeans commercials. And I
said it can't be true. Paul Sheldon
would never waste his time with a
trampy woman like that.
PAUL
Well, you can't believe everything
you read in magazines.
ANNIE
I knew it. I knew it wasn't true.
Boy, how do they get away with
printing stuff like that?
PAUL
You'd be amazed at what some people
will believe.
He finishes the autograph, hands the book back to her.
ANNIE
Thank you so much.
PAUL
My pleasure.
DISSOLVE TO:
THE WINDOW - LATE - AFTERNOON SUNLIGHT
CUT TO:
THE DOOR. IT opens and guess what--a sow lumbers in.
CUT TO:
PAUL, kind of stunned as this female pig skitters its way
around the room, excited, confused, slipping and sliding.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, all smiles and happiness, laughing in the doorway.
ANNIE
I thought it was time you two should
meet. Paul, say hello to my favorite
beast in all the world, my sow,
Misery.
PAUL
Misery?
CUT TO:
THE PIG, snorting around the room.
CUT TO:
PAUL AND ANNIE, watching it.
ANNIE
Yes. I told you I was your number-
one fan.
PAUL
I'm getting to believe you.
ANNIE
This farm was getting kind of dreary,
what with just the few cows and
chickens and me--
(happy)
But when I got Misery here, everything
Changed--she just makes me smile so.
PAUL
She's a fine... uh... pig is what
she is...
ANNIE
(scooping up the pig,
holding it tight as
she stands by Paul)
I'm on page three-hundred now, Paul,
and it's better than perfect--it's
divine. What's the ceiling that dago
painted?
PAUL
The Sistine Chapel?
ANNIE
Yeah, that and Misery's Child--those
are the only two divine things ever
in this world...
PAUL watches as the pig skitters out of the room with ANNIE
in pursuit, happily imitating the pig.
ANNIE
Woink! Whoink! Whuh-Whuh-WHOINK!
CUT TO:
PAUL staring after them--what the hell was that?
CUT TO:
THE WINDOW. DUSK.
ANNIE'S VOICE is heard softly.
ANNIE
When my husband left me... I wasn't
prepared, it wasn't an easy time...
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
ANNIE, standing at the window, her back to the room.
In bed, PAUL is dealing with a bedpan, peeing.
ANNIE
For a while I thought I might go
crazy.
PAUL
I know how that can be.
ANNIE
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 hen I first
discovered Misery. She made me so
happy. She made me forget all my
problems.
(She smiles now)
'Course, I suppose you had a little
something to do with that too.
There is a peeing sound.
PAUL
Yeah, well...
He is embarrassed.
ANNIE
(She isn't)
I just kept reading them over and
over. I know when I finish this one--
and I've only got two chapters to go--
I'll just turn right to the front
page and start reading it again.
PAUL
I'm...
ANNIE
(She turns around,
moves to the bed)
Done?
PAUL
Yeah, thanks.
ANNIE
No problem.
As she takes the bedpan...
ANNIE
Don't get me wrong. I'm not against
marriage per se. But it would take a
pretty special guy to make me want
to go down the aisle again.
PAUL
Well, it's not something you should
enter into lightly.
ANNIE
It boils down to respect. People
just don't respect the institution
of marriage any more. They have no
sense of real commitment.
CUT TO:
PAUL, attempting to smile. There is not much he can say to
this.
ANNIE
I'd love to stay here and chat, but
I'm right at the end and I gotta
find out what happens.
PAUL
Well, I hope you like it.
ANNIE
Of course I'll like it. Misery's
about to have her child. What's it
gonna be, a boy or a girl? Ooh, don't
tell me.
With that, she exits.
CUT TO:
THE WINDOW. MOONLIGHT.
CUT TO:
PAUL. He's been dozing but now his eyes flutter awake as we
CUT TO:
THE DOOR. It opens and ANNIE enters, comes to his bedside.
CUT TO:
PAUL. Hard to see. He squints up as we
CUT TO:
ANNIE. CLOSE UP: her face is ashen pale.
ANNIE
You...you dirty bird. She can't be
dead. Misery Chastain cannot be dead!
How could you?
PAUL
Annie, in 1871, women often died in
childbirth, but her spirit is the
important thing, and Misery's spirit
is still alive--
ANNIE
(screaming)
I DON'T WANT HER SPIRIT! I want HER!
And you MURDERED her!
PAUL
I DIDN'T...
ANNIE
Then who did?
PAUL
No one--she just died--she slipped
away, that's all.
ANNIE
(screaming)
She slipped away? She slipped away?
She didn't just slip away. You did
it. You did it. You did it. You did
it. You murdered my Misery.
And now she has lifted a chair--it's heavy but she's very
strong--and she raises it and turns on Paul, and it's high
above her head, and PAUL realizes that this might be it, she
might shatter him with it, crunch his skull--and that's just
what she seems she's about to do--and then she swings it,
not against him but against the wall, and it shatters and
she's panting from the effort as she turns on him again, her
voice surprisingly soft.
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
awhile.
(she crosses to the
door, then stops)
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.
CUT TO:
PAUL, watching as she closes the door behind her. Then there
is a RATTLE OF A KEY and the sound of the door to his room
LOCKING.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, getting in her Cherokee and gunning away.
CUT TO:
THE ROOM
PAUL lies still. He looks around the room and listens for
sounds. All he hears are the SOUNDS OF A WINTER NIGHT in the
mountains. After a few beats, he takes a deep breath and
then begins his greatest effort of all: to force his body
out of bed, to make it move.
He's still weak from what he's endured, but that's not the
main thing: it's the pain. Any attempt at movement and his
legs scream. He sags back, lies there still a moment. Slowly
he tries to maneuver his body off the bed. He rolls over
onto his stomach, then tries to lower himself onto the floor
by moving down head first. His good arm hits the floor, and
he is able to hold himself up but, realizing there is no way
to get out of bed without causing tremendous pain, he girds
himself and flings himself out of bed and comes crashing to
the floor.
The pain is excruciating. After he regains his composure, he
slowly crawls toward the door.
He reaches up and tries the handle. It is, in fact, locked.
He awkwardly tries to slam up against the door, but it is
much too painful and to no avail. He crawls back over to the
bed, realizes there's no way to climb back in, then grabs
the blanket from the bed, wraps it around himself, and closes
his eyes.
DISSOLVE TO:
BUSTER'S OFFICE. DAY.
He sits alone at his desk on the telephone, staring at the
Rocky Mountain Gazette spread in front of him.
CUT TO:
THE NEWSPAPER'S FRONT PAGE
In a prominent spot on the top is what is most likely a book-
jacket photo of Paul. Above the picture is the following:
"HAVE YOU SEEN PAUL SHELDON?"
BUSTER is on the phone with Marcia Sindell.
BUSTER
No, Ms. Sindell, there's no point in
coming up here now. Everything that
can be done is... Yes, we're working
closely with the state police, and
the FBI has been informed. Right...
Right... As soon as we know anything
we'll let you know. No, it's no
bother. Call anytime. Bye, Ms.
Sindell.
VIRGINIA enters, carrying some files.
VIRGINIA
Here's the list of all Sheldon's
credit charges. Nothing after the
Silver Creek.
(With a glance at his
dour face, she
indicates the photo)
Any calls?
BUSTER
Just from his agent.
CUT TO:
BUSTER. His eyes flick up to her. An almost imperceptible
shake of the head.
HOLD FOR A MOMENT, then--
FACES. They are distorted, and they come into view but
briefly, then change into the next distorted face. All kinds--
there is no order to them
--young, Oriental, female, male, pretty, sad, black, not so
pretty, happy, white, old--what we HEAR is this:
"...You've changed my life..."
"...I'm your number one fan..."
"...I'm a really big fan of yours..."
"...I'm your biggest fan..."
"...Don't ever stop writing those Misery books..."
"...I've read all your books, but the Misery's... well..."
"...I'm your number one fan..."
"...You've given me such pleasure..."
"...I feel like you're writing just for me..."
And now, it gets kicked up in speed and all goes faster,
many times overlapping.
"...I love you... I'm your number one fan... I'm your biggest
fan... We love you... number one... love you... biggest...
love you... number one... number one... you poor dear
thing..."
This last was said by Annie, out of focus, and for a moment,
she stays that way--
CUT TO:
THE ROOM, AS IT SNAPS BACK INTO FOCUS--ANNIE is standing by
the bed. It is dusk.
She wears a dark blue dress and a hat with a sprig of flowers.
Her eyes are bright and vivacious--the fact is, this is the
prettiest ANNIE WILKES has ever looked.
ANNIE
What are you doing on the floor?
(crossing to the bed)
It's my fault. If I'd had a proper
hospital bed, this never would have
happened. Here, let me help you back
in.
(She lifts him back
into the bed, which
causes considerable
pain)
I know this hurts, but it'll only
take a few seconds. There you go.
Comfy?
PAUL
(in pain)
Perfect.
ANNIE
You're such a kidder. I have a big
surprise for you. But first there's
something you must do.
PAUL
I don't suppose I could have a little
snack while I wait for the
surprise?
ANNIE
I'll get you everything you want,
but you must listen first. Sometimes
my thinking is a little muddy, I
accept that. It's why I couldn't
remember all those things they were
asking me on the witness stand in
Denver.
Now she turns, goes to the doorway, keeping on talking. She
is never out of sight.
ANNIE
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."
PAUL
Show me the way?
ANNIE
Yes.
She exits and re-enters wheeling something toward his bed.
It's a charcoal barbecue, the kind you use in summer for
cooking hamburgers. She holds several items in her arms: a
box of Diamond Blue Tip wooden matches, a can of lighter
fluid. And most noticeably, Paul's manuscript.
CUT TO:
ANNIE AND PAUL. He watches, mute, as she takes off the grill,
puts the manuscript into the barbecue itself where the
charcoal goes, spritzes it with lighter fluid. The grill is
close enough to the bed for him to reach out and drop a match.
PAUL
When I mentioned a snack, I was
thinking more along the lines of a
cheese and crackers kind of thing.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, looking at him.
ANNIE
Paul, this is no time for jokes. You
must rid the world of this filth.
She hands him the box of kitchen matches.
PAUL
You want me to burn my book?
ANNIE
(she nods)
Yes.
PAUL
You want me to burn my book?
ANNIE
I know this may be difficult for
you, but it's for the best.
PAUL
This isn't difficult, my agent's
made dozens of copies. There's gonna
be an auction on this, and every
publishing house in New York is
reading it now. So if you want me to
burn it, fine. You're not ridding
the world of anything.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, watching him.
ANNIE
(quietly)
Then light the match, Paul.
PAUL
No big deal.
ANNIE
So you've indicated. Do it.
CUT TO:
THE MATCHES. PAUL'S HANDS are starting to tremble now. He
can't do it.
ANNIE
I know this is the only copy, Paul.
When you were twenty-four 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
eleven years ago.
PAUL
You know, Annie, this book never
would have survived without you.
When it gets to new York, there will
be a big auction, and whatever it
brings we can split.
(pause)
God knows you're entitled to it.
ANNIE
Oh, Paul. This isn't about money.
It's about decency and purity. It's
about God's values.
PAUL
You're right. You're right. I don't
know what I was thinking. I'll tell
you what. It doesn't have to be
published. Nobody ever has to see
it. I'll just keep it for myself. No
one will ever have to know it exists.
ANNIE
As long as it does exist, your mind
won't ever be free. I think you should
light the match, Paul.
There is a long silence. PAUL doesn't move.
ANNIE
Can't you see it's what God wants?
She's holding the can of lighter fluid in her hand as she
speaks and absentmindedly flicks a few drops of the fluid on
the bed.
ANNIE
You're so brilliant. I would think
you'd certainly be able to see that.
(More drops fall on
the bed)
We're put on this earth to help
people, Paul. Like I'm trying to
help you.
PAUL watches as the fluid continues to drop on the bed.
ANNIE
Please let me help you.
CUT TO:
PAUL. His hands shaking. Almost robot-like, he strikes one.
It flames.
ANNIE
You're doing the right thing, Paul.
CUT TO:
THE BARBECUE, as Paul's hand appears, drops the match on the
fluid-soaked manuscript. For a moment--nothing--
--and then, KABOOM, the goddamn thing practically explodes
and
CUT TO:
PAUL, staring, dazed, and as the flames leap higher,
CUT TO:
ANNIE, suddenly scared and startled at the heat and the size
of the flames and the full baking heat and
ANNIE
(crying out)
Goodness!
CUT TO:
THE BARBECUE. The sound is LOUDER as the flames leap up and
now charred bits of paper begin floating upward and
CUT TO:
ANNIE, watching, as more bits of paper rise.
ANNIE
Goodness--Goodness--Oh, my gracious--
And she starts trying to catch them.
CUT TO:
A PIECE OF BURNING PAPER in midair, floating against the
gauzy curtain, and for a moment it looks like the curtain
will catch fire and
CUT TO:
ANNIE, panicked, racing out of the room, going "Goodness,
heavens to Betsy"--
CUT TO:
THE BARBECUE, and what's left of the book.
CUT TO:
PAUL, and he cannot take his eyes off the disaster.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, hurrying back in, carrying a big bucket, slopping
water as she lifts the bucket.
CUT TO:
THE LAST of the manuscript as the bucket of water is tossed
onto it--there's hissing and steam and as the steam clears
it all looks now like a log in a brackish pond.
ANNIE
Well, isn't that an oogy mess?
As she starts to wheel the barbecue out, suddenly there is a
new and different sound as we
CUT TO:
PAUL, head turning toward the window.
CUT TO:
ANNIE taking a step toward the window, stopping for a moment.
The sound we're hearing is a motor. A HELICOPTER MOTOR. And
it's getting louder. Annie goes to the window now, looks
toward the sky as we
CUT TO:
A HELICOPTER flying along.
CUT TO:
INSIDE THE HELICOPTER
BUSTER and a PILOT are in the machine. Buster has a pair of
binoculars looped around his neck, a map rumpled in his lap.
BUSTER
(pointing out)
That's the Steadman place up there.
(The pilot nods. Buster
points again)
The only other place up here is the
Wilkes farm.
Another nod. The PILOT points down. BUSTER stares through
the binoculars.
WHAT HE SEES: ANNIE'S JEEP parked in front of her house.
CUT TO:
INSIDE THE HELICOPTER
BUSTER
That's no '65 Mustang. There's nothing
else out this way--circle on back.
As the pilot starts to change direction
CUT TO:
ANNIE at the window, watching, as the helicopter turns, starts
off.
CUT TO:
PAUL, listening as the MOTOR sound recedes.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, staring out the window.
ANNIE
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?
PAUL
I don't know.
ANNIE
Yeah, well, it's a theory. Here's
your Novril.
(she wheels the
barbecue to the door;
stops)
How does tuna casserole sound for
dinner?
PAUL
Great.
She exits. PAUL takes the two Novril, stares at them, then
deliberately tucks them under his mattress.
DISSOLVE TO:
PAUL'S ROOM. NIGHT.
As PAUL is finishing the last of his tuna casserole. There
are two Novrils on his tray. We hear strains of TV GAME SHOW
THEME MUSIC. These sounds are not surprising. Paul has heard
them before.
CUT TO:
ANNIE'S ROOM. NIGHT.
It is much smaller than Paul's and filled with religious
bric-a-brac, pictures of Paul Sheldon, and a TV on a portable
stand. Annie lies in bed, with an open bag of Cheetos resting
on her stomach and a big quart-sized plastic bottle of Coke
on the nightstand. As she munches away, she is heavily
engrossed in her favorite TV show, "The Love Connection." As
Chuck Woolery extracts the embarrassing details of a couple's
romantic interlude, we
CUT TO:
Paul faintly hearing the sounds of the TV. He has now finished
eating. He takes the two Novril from under the mattress. He
then undoes the sheet, takes his fork and delicately pokes a
hole in the mattress, then stuffs all four pills back into
the hole.
DISSOLVE TO:
FARMHOUSE
Coming up to dawn.
CUT TO:
PAUL'S DOOR slowly opening.
CUT TO:
PAUL, staring at the door.
CUT TO:
WHEELS, seen from underneath the bed, being rolled around
the foot of the bed. We realize PAUL is in a wheelchair with
ANNIE pushing him.
ANNIE
See, isn't this nice?
PAUL
Great. I've always wanted to visit
the other side of the room.
ANNIE
And look what I've got for you. An
electric razor so you can shave
yourself now.
PAUL
If I knew this was gonna be the
surprise, you could've gotten me to
burn all my books.
ANNIE
(She hands him some
Novril)
Now don't josh. This is a very big
day for you, Paul. Here. You just
sit tight, and I'll set everything
up.
ANNIE exits.
CUT TO:
PAUL, quickly shoving the Novril into the mattress.
PAUL
Set what up?
ANNIE
That's the big surprise. Your new
studio--after all, writers do need a
place to work.
PAUL
Work? You mean write? What in the
world do you think I'd write?
ANNIE
Oh, but Paul!
(flushed)
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--
(beat)
--you're going to write a new novel--
your greatest achievement ever--
Misery's Return.
CUT TO:
PAUL. Stunned.
PAUL
(after a beat)
Misery's Return?
ANNIE
I know you didn't mean it when you
killed her, and now you'll make it
right.
CUT TO:
ANNIE: CLOSE UP. In an almost religious fervor.
ANNIE
Yes. It will be a book in my honor.
For saving your life and nursing you
back to health. I'll be the first
one to read it.
(beat)
Oh, Paul, you're going to make me
the envy of the whole world...
CUT TO:
PAUL
PAUL
You just expect me to whip something
off, that it?
ANNIE
(nods)
I expect nothing less than your
masterpiece.
PAUL
You do understand that this isn't
the ordinary way books get written--
I mean, some people might actually
consider this an oddball situation.
She rolls him over to a table she has set up by the window.
ANNIE
I have total confidence in your
brilliance--besides, the view will
inspire you.
CUT TO:
THE WINDOW, as the wheelchair approaches it.
The sky is innocent of clouds. There's a green forest climbing
the flank of the nearest mountain. A plot of open ground
between the house and the mountain. A neat red barn where
the livestock stay. A Jeep Cherokee, maybe five years old. A
Fisher plow. And no neighbors in sight. This is a desolate
place.
ANNIE
You just inhale that. I'll be right
back.
CUT TO:
PAUL, staring out the window.
PAUL
(calling out)
I guess you don't get bothered by
neighbors much.
ANNIE
Don't worry about that. You'll have
total solitude so you can concentrate
on your work.
PAUL
Great.
CUT TO:
ANNIE in the doorway, carrying reams of typing paper, pencils,
pens and sharpener.
CUT TO:
PAUL, watching her--it's all kind of amazing. She hands him
a box of typing paper.
ANNIE
I got you this expensive paper to
type on.
CUT TO:
PAUL, looking at the paper. It's Corrasable Bond. An idea
hits him; he masks it as best he can.
ANNIE
(putting the rest of
the paper on the
table)
And I got a great deal on this fifty-
pound clunker--on account of it's
missing an "n." I told the saleslady
"n" was one of the letters in my
favorite writer's name.
PAUL
It's two of the letters in my favorite
nurse's name, Annie.
ANNIE
(embarrassed, blushing)
You--fooler...!
(turns, grabs up pens,
pencils, paper)
Did I do good?
PAUL
(gesturing to the box
of paper)
You did great, except there's just
one little thing--I can't work with
this paper. It's Corrasable Bond, it
smudges. Maybe you could go back
into town and bring me some white,
long-grained mimeo.
ANNIE
But mine cost the most so I don't
see how it could smudge.
PAUL
(quickly taking a
sheet of paper, making
a pencil mark on it)
C'mere, I'll show you.
As she approaches, he rubs his thumb over the pencil mark.
ANNIE
(looking at it)
Well, it does smudge after all--isn't
that fascinating?
PAUL
I thought you'd be interested. I'd
like you to be in on everything,
Annie. Not just the finished book,
but how it's written.
ANNIE
Thank you for thinking of me.
(She can be so charming
when she wants)
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 maybe a
handmade set of writing slippers?
PAUL
No, just the paper will be fine.
ANNIE
(suddenly very agitated)
Are you sure? 'Cause if you want,
I'll bring back the whole store for
you.
PAUL
Annie, what's the matter?
ANNIE
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.
With that, she throws the ream of paper in PAUL'S LAP, causing
considerable pain.
CUT TO:
THE DOOR as she slams it shut, locks it, stomps off and
CUT TO:
THE WINDOW. Annie, in a parka, can be seen storming out in
the direction where her Cherokee was parked. She gets in and
drives off.
CUT TO:
PAUL. He heaves a sigh, reaches out toward his tortured knees,
then drops his head. He sees something.
CUT TO:
BOBBY PIN on the floor.
CUT TO:
PAUL, as he moves toward the bobby pin. Or tries to. It's
brutally hard for him. The chair moves half a foot. Stops.
Paul strains again. Another half foot. Another.
CUT TO:
The BOBBY PIN. The wheelchair is beside it now. PAUL reaches
down for it. Can't make it. Tries again. Can't. He takes a
deep breath, forces himself to bend, ignoring the pain. The
bobby pin is in his hands.
CUT TO:
PAUL, inserting the bobby pin into the keyhole, beginning to
jimmy the lock.
CUT TO:
THE LOCK--it makes a SOUND--something has caught.
CUT TO:
PAUL, excited, trying to force the bobby pin and he's doing
great--until it slips from his hands, falls to the floor
again.
PAUL
(furious)
Shit...
CUT TO:
THE BOBBY PIN. Paul reaches for it. The pain has him. He
reaches again, involuntarily cries out. But he grabs it,
clutches it tight.
CUT TO:
THE KEYHOLE. Paul is trying to jimmy the lock a second time.
No luck.
CUT TO:
PAUL. In wild frustration.
PAUL
You've written how to do this--now
do it!
CUT TO:
THE KEYHOLE. There is a loud CLICKING sound.
CUT TO:
THE DOOR as Paul turns the knob. The door opens a crack.
PAUL
(amazed)
What do you know, it actually works.
CUT TO:
PAUL, trying to get out of the room--but it's a bitch because
in order to get to the lock he had to move the wheelchair up
to the door and in order to get out, he's got to maneuver it
out of the way of the door and every turn of the chair's
wheels is an effort for him. He works at it and works at it,
but his energy is failing him. He's pale, perspiring. Finally
he succeeds, barely forces his way into the hall.
CUT TO:
PAUL, in the hallway outside. He looks around for a phone.
Doesn't see one. He wheels himself over to the front door,
tries it. It's locked from the outside.
PAUL
What a surprise.
He looks off into the living room, and...
CUT TO:
THE TELEPHONE
CUT TO:
PAUL, wheeling into the living room. Dark red predominates.
It's a musty room. Over the mantel, a photograph of a six-
year-old ANNIE, with her mother and father in front of the
family car--a new 1952 Buick. These were happier times.
The windows have bars on them.
As PAUL begins to wheel as fast as he can toward the phone--
CUT TO:
THE PHONE as PAUL at last grabs for it, gets it, punches the
"operator" button--
PAUL
Operator...
(nothing)
...OPERATOR...
(wildly frustrated)
...Shit!
He shakes the phone. It's terribly light. He picks it up,
turns it over--it's hollow, just a shell of a telephone. He
stares at it for a long moment, shaking his head, the
disappointment plain.
PAUL
You crazy bitch...
He puts the phone back on the table.
CUT TO:
THE GENERAL STORE. DAY.
Annie exits the store, carrying new paper, hops into her
Cherokee and drives off.
CUT TO:
THE STUDY, as PAUL enters. He looks around.
It's stuffed with heavy, graceless furniture as well as lots
of coffee tables covered with knickknacks. As he, with effort,
wheels across it--
CUT TO:
A shelf of BOOKS. PAUL SHELDON books. EVERY Paul Sheldon
book.
CUT TO:
PAUL, pausing, looking at her collection. The only book on
the shelf that isn't his is a large scrapbook. The title on
the back reads "My Life."
He glances back at the shelf as he forces his wheelchair
across the study, and we
CUT TO:
A SMALL TABLE with little ceramic doodads on top. The
wheelchair his it, one of the doodads topples--it's a penguin,
fragile looking, and as it's about to fall to the floor and
shatter--
CUT TO:
PAUL, grabbing for it, catching it, putting it back where it
was. He continues his slow way across the room and
CUT TO:
THE HALLWAY.
Out in the hallway, on his way toward the kitchen, PAUL
notices a door to his right. He wheels over and surprisingly
it opens. However, this is not a door to the outside of the
house, only a storage pantry. He looks around--nothing but
canned goods, potato chips, cereals and large plastic Coke
containers, etc. Just as he is about to close the door, he
notices an open cardboard box. He opens the flap and sees
all kinds of prescription drugs. Among them are a couple of
strips of Novril encapsulated in blisters. He grabs them and
stuffs them into his sweatpants. Now he closes the pantry
door and heads to the kitchen.
CUT TO:
THE KITCHEN
As PAUL approaches it. He starts to wheel his way in, but he
has trouble.
He backs up slightly, wheels forward again--
--but the door is too narrow for the chair to fit through.
He pounds his fists on the chair arm, staring as we
CUT TO:
THE BACK DOOR. It's at the far end of the kitchen leading to
the outside. It seems somehow less formidable than the front
door did. The windows around the kitchen are barred.
CUT TO:
PAUL, staring at the kitchen door--
--then without warning, he makes his move, starting to lower
himself out of the chair
gently to the floor--
--only it doesn't work that way. It's too awkward, he doesn't
have the strength to maneuver properly--
--and his body tilts awkwardly out of the chair, slams hard
against the hard floor.
CUT TO:
PAUL, crying out in pain as he lands. He lies there for a
moment. Little droplets of sweat are on his forehead now. He
is hurting.
He closes his eyes, gathering strength--
--and then slowly, very slowly, inch by inch, he moves his
body across the floor toward the kitchen door.
CUT TO:
THE KITCHEN DOOR. It's still a long way away.
CUT TO:
PAUL, ignoring his pain, his awkwardness, making his body
move.
CUT TO:
THE KITCHEN DOOR. Closer now.
CUT TO:
PAUL, growing pale, but he won't stop, and now the door is
just ahead of him, and with his good arm he reaches out and
up and grabs the doorknob--
CUT TO:
THE KITCHEN DOOR. Locked solid.
CUT TO:
PAUL: CLOSE UP. The disappointment and anger is plain on his
face. His arm drops. He lies still for a moment, panting
from his effort. Then--
CUT TO:
PAUL, and his eyes are wide for a moment. You can feel his
wild excitement, as we
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
Sitting on the counter: A SET OF CARVING KNIVES sticking out
of a slotted wooden block.
They seem to be out of reach, but that doesn't stop him. He
starts to crawl over to the counter.
CUT TO:
THE ROAD
ANNIE is driving along in her Cherokee. She is heading home.
CUT TO:
THE KITCHEN
Now at the counter, PAUL tries to pull himself up with his
one good arm, but even though he is able to chin himself up
to the top of the counter, he is still unable to reach the
knives. He makes a desperate attempt which sends him crashing
to the floor.
As he starts to force his way up again--from outside there
comes a sound--the motor of a car.
CUT TO:
OUTSIDE ANNIE'S
ANNIE, driving up to the house.
CUT TO:
THE KITCHEN
PAUL, throwing himself back to the floor, starting a wild
crawl back across the kitchen toward the wheelchair and
CUT TO:
OUTSIDE ANNIE'S
ANNIE, getting out of her Jeep and
CUT TO:
KITCHEN
PAUL, crawling, crawling and
CUT TO:
OUTSIDE ANNIE'S
ANNIE, walking around to the back of the Jeep and
CUT TO:
KITCHEN
PAUL, scrambling wildly up into his wheelchair, starting to
get it turned and
CUT TO:
ANNIE'S
ANNIE, opening the back of the Jeep and lifting out several
rectangular boxes of paper and
CUT TO:
PAUL, straightened out now, forcing the wheelchair to move,
and now we're into a race, a crazed life-and-death race and
the cuts go fast--
--and ANNIE closes the door of the car--
--and PAUL is suddenly stuck, there's no traction on the rug--
-- ow ANNIE, purchases in hand, starts away from the car for
the house--
--and now PAUL is finally moving toward the bedroom.
--and ANNIE is moving swiftly toward the front door.
-- he drops one of the packages of paper.
CUT TO:
PAUL, still biting down, churning his arms with all the
strength he has left. PAUL'S ARMS, aching, start to turn to
rubber.
CUT TO:
ANNIE'S FEET, walking quickly across the snow-covered area
in front of the house and
CUT TO:
THE BEDROOM DOOR as Paul gets through it, shuts it, and
attacks the bedroom lock with the bobby pin and
CUT TO:
ANNIE, unlocking the front door of the house and
CUT TO:
THE BEDROOM DOOR, as it locks and
CUT TO:
THE FRONT DOOR, unlocking and
CUT TO:
ANNIE balancing the bundles under her chin as she jiggles
the key out of the front door lock and
CUT TO:
PAUL, soaked.
ANNIE (V.O.)
(her voice from the
hallway, close and
growing closer)
Paul, I've got your paper.
CUT TO:
PAUL. He wheels to exactly where he was when she left him.
He at last allows himself a sigh of relief.
CUT TO:
THE DOOR as the sound of a lock CLICKING is heard.
ANNIE
Just the kind you asked for.
And as the door opens--
CUT TO:
PAUL--looking down. Paul's waistband--a half a dozen strips
of Novril ominously stick out.
As the door swings open, he quickly covers the Novril with
this hands.
CUT TO:
ANNIE, in the doorway, a strange look on her face.
ANNIE
Paul, you're dripping with
perspiration, your color is very
hectic--what have you been doing?
PAUL
You know goddamn well what I've been
doing--I'VE BEEN SITTING HERE
SUFFERING. I need my pills.
ANNIE
(tenderly, as she
starts toward him)
Poor dear... Let's get you back in
bed and I'll get them for you.
PAUL
(exploding--a real
child's tantrum)
I want my pills NOW!
ANNIE
It'll only take a second.
PAUL
I want my pain to go 'way, Annie--
make it go 'way, please Annie--
(She looks at him--
you can't tell if
she's buying it or
not)
--please...
CUT TO:
ANNIE. She stares a moment more, then turns, starts for the
door.
ANNIE
(upset)
It just breaks my heart to see you
like this...
CUT TO:
PAUL watching, and the instant she is out the door in the
hallway, he stuffs the Novril into his pants.
ANNIE (O.S.)
(coming closer)
I've done a lot of thinking on the
drive...
CUT TO:
ANNIE, entering the room, the Novril in her hand. She is
genuinely contrite.
ANNIE
...and I'm absolutely convinced that
the main reason I've never been more
popular is because of my temper. You
must be so mad at me. The truth now.
She hands him the pills. And rolls him over to the bed.
PAUL
Well, I don't hold grudges. After
all, who doesn't let off a little
steam once in a while.
CUT TO:
PAUL putting the pills in his mouth, as she picks him up
from the chair and puts him gently down in bed.
ANNIE
My genius needs his rest before he
writes.
She hands him a pad and pencil.
ANNIE
Here, in case you think of any ideas.
PAUL
Yeah, well I wouldn't expect too
much.
ANNIE
Don't be silly. You'll be brilliant.
Think of me as your inspiration.
CUT TO:
THE DOORWAY, as ANNIE starts to it.
ANNIE
I have faith in you...
(beat)
...my darling...
On that she turns--for the first time, a coquettish look
comes to her face.
ANNIE
Catch this--
(she throws him a
kiss--it's grotesque)
--ummmm-wahhhh.
CUT TO:
PAUL, summoning up all his courage, as he mimes catching it
and forces a smile on. She waves, closes the door.
HOLD ON PAUL. The smile dies. He reaches in and pulls the
two Novril capsules out of his mouth. Now--
CUT TO:
THE SOUND OF A HELICOPTER
CUT TO:
INSIDE THE HELICOPTER
BUSTER AND PILOT flying along. Buster is all bundled up as
he stares out, using the binoculars...
CUT TO:
SOMETHING SHINY reflecting the sun.
HOLD AS IT ALMOST BLINDS US--we're looking at the part of
Paul's Mustang that was revealed by the snow when Buster
almost found the car.
BUSTER
(to Pilot)
Walter, we could be skipping lunch
today.
CUT TO:
CRASH SITE
Paul's car being hoisted by chains from the ground and, as
it starts to rise up into the afternoon air...
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
THE AREA BY THE CAR--BUSTER is there and a bunch of STATE
POLICEMEN and various MEDIA PEOPLE are there--Buster stands
with the STATE POLICE CHIEF watching as the car is hoisted
via derrick; the sound of the powerful MOTOR lifting the car
is enormous and as the car keeps rising higher and higher
and PEOPLE take pictures and stare and
CUT TO:
THE STATE POLICE CHIEF is addressing maybe a dozen REPORTERS.
It's very cold. BUSTER stands slightly away from the group.
STATE POLICE CHIEF
The presumption must now be that
Paul Sheldon is dead. We know he
somehow crawled out of his car. But
we have been unable to locate his
body in the vicinity of the crash.
We also know if anyone had found
him, they would have taken him to an
area hospital. His body is undoubtedly
out there buried somewhere in the
snow. We'll find him after the first
thaw--unless the animals have gotten
to him first.
(beat)
I'll take questions.
After the first sentence, a very cold and very unhappy BUSTER
leaves the gathering.
CUT TO:
PAUL'S CAR as Buster studies it, especially the area by the
driver's side where there are still dents visible from Annie's
crowbar.
VIRGINIA moves to him now. They exchange a glance, start
walking together toward their car.
CUT TO:
THE CHIEF, surrounded--people are asking questions, raising
hands for attention, and as he answers them--
CUT TO:
BUSTER AND VIRGINIA, close together, walking toward their
car.
VIRGINIA
You don't think he's dead, do you?
BUSTER
He might well be. But not the way
they say. He didn't crawl out of
that car by himself. You saw those
dents on the door--someone pulled
him out.
VIRGINIA
It was an old car--those dents could
have been there forever.
BUSTER
There's two kinds of people that
drive around in old cars: the ones
that can't afford new ones, and the
ones who wouldn't give 'em up for
anything in the world. That second
bunch don't drive around with twenty-
five-year-old dents.
As they drive off...
CUT TO:
PAUL'S ROOM. NIGHT.
PAUL lies in bed listening to the strains of "The Love
Connection," coming from upstairs. As Chuck Woolery drones
on, Paul is intently involved in folding a piece of paper
from his pad. He is making a container of some sort. He
finishes, then reaches down and grabs the Novril capsules
that he has been stashing in the mattress.
Carefully, he opens one and pours it into the palm of his
hand. First he smells it--no odor--then he takes a tiny bit
on a finger and tastes it--no taste. Then, he takes his paper
container and empties the contents of all the pills into it,
then places it under the mattress.
Now, what to do with the empty capsules. He thinks for a
second, then--what the hell--he swallows them. He then places
the packet back in the mattress.
CUT TO:
THE TYPEWRITER. DAY.
The window is visible behind it. From this angle, it almost
seems to be staring at PAUL, broken "n" and all. PAUL tests
his wounded arm. He's able to raise it a few inches, but
that's it.
CUT TO:
OUTSIDE THE WINDOW
ANNIE is visible heading for the barn, followed by MISERY,
the pig. For a moment, she stops, turns to look back.
ANNIE
(calling out)
Don't be nervous--
(beat)
--just remember, I'll treasure
whatever you do.
Now, as she turns again, moves quickly away--
CUT TO:
THE TYPEWRITER