The Sessions Review
John Hawke’s has come a long way since he was set ablaze by a flaming loo roll bunged at him by George Clooney in the opening of From Dusk Till Dawn. Nowadays John Hawkes is a regular awards contender for his more recent work, and we don’t see The Sessions being exempt from that.
Hawkes stars in this true life story of polio sufferer Mark O’Brien, who for most of his days lives in an iron lung and is cared for by a variety of people. Luckily he is in a position to select who takes care of him, and into his life we see faces and personalities that care for and yet are also stern with him.
It becomes clear however that Mark is interested in love, and love making, and seeing that his time on Earth could well be short, would like to address that issue. So he seeks the counsel of his local priest, Father Brendan (William H Macy wearing Kevin Bacon’s hair) who gives him some guided consent and so Mark seeks the aid of a sex therapist, Cheryl (Helen Hunt).
A set of “sessions” are then booked so that Mark can learn to engage with a woman physically. And it’s here that the film really finds its comedy and heart as mishaps and discoveries are made along the way as Cheryl affects him physically as he does her emotionally.
The years are starting to take their toll on Hunt, but she gamely take on the hippie-esque qualities of her character with liberal glee. It’s Hawkes film though, and his performance is clearly going to mark him out as a contender come Oscar time. The Sessions is a film that doesn’t live in the depression of its subject’s affliction; but rather the more worthwhile moments of time well spent in a life that happened to have physical constraints.
Steven Hurst