Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Love: The Sessions
here), the film adaptation serves as an often to-the-letter illustration of Mark's struggles and triumphs. For all his time in the iron lung, he's an accomplished individual, a well-educated poet with a keen sense of humor and a quick-witted way with words. We spend time with him in the 1980's where, upon being hired to write an article in which he interviewed other disabled people about their sex lives, he falls for his lovely young assistant and begins to contemplate the 'what ifs' of his own wholly absent sex life. She's not into him, but that's ok. Mark begins casual, conversational confessions with a relatively easy going priest (William H. Macy), and with Catholic approval, Mark signs on to see Cheryl for a max of six sessions. It's a different kind of rehabilitation, one that will allow Mark to feel as though he's in contact with his own physicality in some way while also giving him a sense of personal pride. Cheryl is not a prostitute, of course, she's a caring, very gentle medical professional, and while their sessions are equipped with several awkward moments, the film succeeds in making the viewer really like Mark. We want him to succeed. We want him to get laid.