The Sessions

15, 2012, Directed by Ben Lewin
Starring: John Hawkes, Helen Hunt, William H. Macy, Moon Bloodgood

There are times when an astounding story can open your eyes to matters you never paid any thought to because you felt you never needed to; then there are those you are simply blissfully unaware of. The Sessions tells the story of poet and journalist Mark O'Brien (John Hawkes), a disabled individual who, due to a bout of polio as a youngster, is confined to an iron lung, unable to move any part of his body save for his head. 38 years of age, Mark’s visits to his local priest (William H. Macy, on fine form) lead him to Helen Hunt's sex surrogate Cathy in a bid to lose his virginity. A tough sell for a film indeed. But no need for worry. Writer/director Ben Lewin tackles the true-to-life story (based on articles, poems and journals O'Brien himself wrote) with aplomb, flitting from scene to scene without a worry over the pressure of dealing with such a sensitive matter. Hawkes' portrayal of O'Brien, all witty asides and down-to-earth musings, is really quite something - proving that for all his Winter's Bone and Martha Marcy May Marlene silent and uneasy exterior, he can deliver when tasked with the more challenging performances. And boy, does it speak for itself. 

Hunt's professional therapist is good on-screen company for Hawkes, the two forging an unlikely but convincing chemistry. Most interesting are her scenes when she returns home from her sessions with O'Brien; evidently more difficult to leave him behind each time (she immediately points out six sessions is the limit; sex surrogates aren’t prostitutes, after all,)  the interactions with her husband, and their forced pillow talk – compared to her lively fluent conversations with her patient - could have been mapped out to add flesh to Cathy's bones.

Attempting to split the strangely-rapid scenes by cutting to O'Brien's talks with H. Macy's priest to fill in the gaps prove just a little mismatched to the remainder of the film. At times, it appears Lewin worries some scenes are outstaying their welcome, when you just feel it simply could have been more effective if shown. Not least because the application of the overused voice-over technique genuinely works well in this instance. After all, if anyone's thoughts are going to be intriguing to hear, it's going to be a man with an iron lung who spends most of his time thinking.

Although Lewin's script may brush over the more nasty aspects that may come with the territory (perhaps his point - Lewin himself is a former polio sufferer,) the central performances complement the astounding story, if not to as an astounding degree as you’d hope.  But as the laughter pours out, you'll marvel at how a film about a guy unable to move his body can be so heartwarming. In other hands, The Sessions could have been littered with sentimental schmaltz. In Lewin's grasp, it is so much better, if perhaps played a little too much for smiles. 

3.5/5