Talk about your sweet and sour.
On the surface, “Brilliant Traces” and “Misery” could not be more different: A sentimental rom-com and a quintessentially creepy Stephen King freakout.
But Cindy Lou Johnson’s heartwarmer has much in common with King’s bone-chiller: A winter blizzard; a stranded traveler encroaching on an isolated loner. One tale will be a love match . . . the other, the more incendiary kind. One leaves emotional scars, the other simply takes a foot. (Now that’s what I call an icebreaker.)
Both are uproariously implausible — forgivable, though, because they’re so engaging in their own ways. Both are best seen with an accompanying hand to hold — the former for sentimental reasons, the latter for dear life.
Sometimes it’s nice to just sit back and watch good actors act, and here we have four very good, very watchable actors — Lisa DeCaro and Jason Maxwell in Vintage Theatre’s “Brilliant Traces,” and Paige Lynn Larson and Cajardo Lindsey in Miners Alley Playhouse’s “Misery.”
You no doubt know less about “Brilliant Traces” — just think “The Runaway Bride” meets “Into the Wild.” Rosannah, a greater force of nature than the gale-force winds outside, bursts in on Henry’s remote Alaskan cabin wearing just her wedding gown and satin shoes. He (inexplicably) stands unseen under a blanket as she yammers, guzzles his whiskey and faints for two days (yet oddly awakens with no need to pee).
Johnson nearly skids off the road in that eye-rolling opening scene, then settles into a more grounded and welcome reality. With a soundtrack chock-full of weepers like Bob Schneider’s “Love is Everywhere,” there’s never a doubt that this slow-reveal character study leads to an inevitable connection. Secrets, like what both these damaged souls are running from, come in due time. DeCaro’s kinetic fetchingness and Maxwell’s wounded charm make this short journey surprisingly substantive, requisitely metaphoric and emotionally cathartic.
Director Len Matheo interjects himself into the proceedings a few too many times, but in the end, “Brilliant Traces” leaves you with a better understanding that sometimes we never know that we’re home till we get there.
“Misery,” on the other hand, gloriously lives up to its popcorn title. It is, of course, King’s creepy-crawler about romance novelist Paul Sheldon, who smashes his legs in a car accident only to be “rescued” by Nurse Ratched (sorry, wrong play; I mean, Nurse Annie Wilkes). Annie is Paul’s No. 1 fan, but she’s also an addled psychopath who doesn’t take kindly to news that Paul has killed off the heroine he so aptly named Misery.
As Annie might say, “Cockadoodie!” “Misery” lived best in the imagination of the reader, but after Kathy Bates won an Oscar, a stage adaptation, however wrong it is for the material, was inevitable.
Here’s the thing: The better your actors are, the harder this play is to sit through — and Larson and Lindsey are pretty freakin’ good actors. Lindsey is all method as he emotes Paul’s searing physical pain, growing drug dependence and subsequent torture.
But he’s also far too vulnerable, perilously tilting the sympathy further his way. James Caan was a great victim in the film because he was also a jerk, which made watching Annie mutilate him far more palatable. Plus: Here, you have Annie delivering one hideously racist remark directly to a black man’s face.
As for Annie: Let’s face it. She’s one of the most howlingly, wonderfully contrived characters ever conjured. But to a master like Larson (as it must have been to Bates), that’s merely a call to roll up one’s acting sleeves. I mean, Larson is so good, watching her is slow, inescapable, glorious torture. You can’t take your eyes off her — not if you want to walk out of the theater alive. She’s seamless in conveying the bipolarism, the damaged little girl, the hideous monster, in ways both subtle and substantial. She’s at her best when she’s not saying a word: It’s those darting eyes, the untamed hair, the explosions of rage, wow . . . talk about oogie!
If only Annie could take her axe to Simon Moore’s script. I mean, c’mon, the play clocks in at 40 minutes longer than the film. And the dirge-y transitional music only drags things out further.
I mean this in the best way: This play is so well-acted, you’ll be begging to be put out of your “Misery.”
John Moore: 303-954-1056 or jmoore@denverpost.com
“Brilliant Traces”
Romantic icebreaker. Vintage Theatre, 2119 E. 17th Ave. Through Feb. 3. 7:30 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays. 1 hour, 25 minutes, no intermission. $17-$22. 303-839-1361 or
“Misery”
Cockadoodie Cruelty. Miners Alley Playhouse, 1224 Washington Ave., Golden. Through Feb. 17. 7:30 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, 6 p.m. Sundays. 2 hours, 22 minutes. $20. 303-935-3044 or
Three more plays
“Lydia.” This Denver Center Theatre Company world premiere focuses on the disintegration of a 1970s Mexican immigrant family after an accident leaves their 15-year-old girl with severe head trauma on the eve of her quinceañera. 6:30 p.m. Mondays-Thursdays; 7:30 p.m. Fridays; 1:30 and 7:30 p.m. Saturdays through March 1 at the Ricketson Theatre, Denver Performing Arts Complex. $31-$48 (303-893-4100 or ). Warning: explicit language, violence, sex.
“And Baby Makes Seven.” Theatre 13 marks its move to Boulder’s Dairy Center with Paula Vogel’s surreal comedy about a couple awaiting the arrival of their newborn child — but they first must rid their crowded apartment of three imaginary children. 7 p.m. Thursdays, 8 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, 4 p.m. Sundays through Feb. 10 at 2590 Walnut St. (303-444-7328 or )
“Sunday in the Park with George.” Stephen Sondheim’s study of enigmatic painter Georges Seurat is one of only three musicals to have won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama in the past 45 years. Presented by the Fine Arts Center Theatre Company at 7:30 p.m. Thursdays, 8 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays and 2 p.m. Sundays through Feb. 17 at 30 W. Dale St., Colorado Springs. $28-$32 (719-634-5583, )
John Moore
Weekly podcast
Running Lines with . . . Brenda Cook. This week, Denver Post theater critic John Moore talks with the director of Uncorked Productions’ “Closer,” whom he first met when she was as an aspiring 13-year-old actress at Denver’s Original Scene (877-862-6752). , then click on the miniplayer’s triangular “play” button above, and the podcast will begin playing without your having to download.
