LFF 2012: The Sessions

A sex comedy with a disabled hero involving frank sex scenes, a poignant drama about a man struggling to live a full life against the odds, and a love story prompted by the assertion “my penis speaks to me, Father Brendan.” The Sessions is all of these things and more, a rare animal that has one roaring with laughter while deeply touched by a story that is tender and profound.

It’s based on the writings of Mark O’Brien, who was paralyzed from the neck down when he contracted polio as a six-year-old. Despite spending much of his time inside an iron lung, he succeeded in a career as a poet and journalist (using a mouth stick), leaning on his wry wit and Catholic faith to get him through despair.

The film picks up O’Brien’s life in California, in 1988. An assignment to write an article about “sex and the disabled” stirs the thirty-something virgin (John Hawkes) to seek the seemingly impossible for himself. Having received the blessing of his enlightened priest (the wonderfully droll William H Macy), he hires sex surrogate Cheryl (Helen Hunt) to help him navigate what Father Brendan cutely describes as “one small journey for man”.

They have six sessions together. These structure the story, which essays in fascinating and often hilarious detail the therapy itself (which actually contains useful advise for any over-eager chap) and the complicated emotional bond that develops from this unusual intimacy.

Writer/director Mark Lewin’s script astutely balances the humour, romance and pathos of his offbeat scenario; for once, a voice-over is entirely appropriate, given that it’s of a man forced to live mostly inside his head. But it’s the two leads who really carry this off, Hunt beautifully conveying the surrogate’s care and very particular attention to detail, as well as her growing emotional conflict, the remarkable Hawkes working wonders within the obvious physical limitations, to present a man whose sweetness melts anyone in his presence.

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