Freud's Last Session

 This review may contain spoilers!

 

Freud's Last Session is an adaptation of the play of the same name by Mark St. Germain. In this dramatic meeting of the minds, Sigmund Freud and C.S. Lewis meet for one day three weeks prior to Freud's death and just at the outbreak of World War II. Over the course of the day the men debate their opposing views on God, creationism, life and death and so much more.

 

Sometimes the dance from play to screen is a tough one, often struggling to escape that feeling of a staged performance to a lived in one. But one thing that is true of Freud's Last Session is just how exquisite the dialogue is presented and exchanged. This is a sharp and clean sounding film with a great deal of thought to the characters and their voice, how they would react and respond to one another. Conflict builds naturally, it pauses for reflection or even isolation, and it rather carefully reflects on some of the biggest points of debate that we still wrestle with today. I loved how witty the script was, quick wordplay, irony or just humorous delivery sold this movie as a conversation allowed to evolve and be experienced in full. Neither of our two protagonists was really short-changed, and they presented the entirety of this intellectual duel superbly. 

Coby Brown's delicate and poignant score really gently reflects the moments of tragedy and terror, but it also lifts us into something comforting and hopeful. It is a score that dances in step with the actors, and that is a fine thing to hear.

 

Matthew Goode, who played C.S. Lewis, is absolutely magnetic as this famous author and scholar; Goode plays Lewis with a quiet resolute calm that moved me entirely. Liv Lisa Fries, who played Anna Freud, is such a tough figure who feels hardened by the trial of living with her demanding father; Fries plays to Anna's private moments of vulnerability very well, particularly in her therapy scene with Freud. Jodi Balfour, who played Dorothy Burlingham, was quite a fascinating constant to partner with Fries; Balfour presented devotion well while also trying to shake her lover free of an unhealthy vice-like hold. Orla Brady, who played Janie Moore, was a real figure of temptation; the flirty dynamic she had with both Lewis performers was a thrill. 

However, the best performance came from Anthony Hopkins, who played Sigmund Freud. There is something very special about watching Anthony Hopkins perform at this time in his career. He is an immensely humble figure, shares the screen perfectly with others, and yet he is a titan. The man inhabits his role thoroughly, there was no point within this film in which I didn't believe Hopkins had metamorphosed into Sigmund Freud. This is a very shrewd character to play, a studious gentleman with an often harsh outlook on life and who deals verbal blows as if he were in a sparring match. I loved how observant this role was, the way this allowed Hopkins to guide a scene or retort within conversation. The pain we see him wrestle with is so complex and layered; Freud is hurting due to cancer physically, but he is also in pain for the loss of his home country and the reflection he must visit of his relationship with Anna, his daughter. While it feels like a conversation, a duel, a puzzle or a witty exchange between Hopkins and Goode at times; there is no doubting this is a pair with tremendous respect for one another. I adore Anthony Hopkins, he is one of the greatest working. A master at work in a film that can barely contain him.

The dialogue and main storyline work so incredibly well that it is almost a shame to see some of the basic pitfalls suffered by an adaptation of a play to screen. This film has an inclination towards delivering backstory or explanation via flashback or dream sequence, a move that often feels like padding being added to a runtime. These moments intrude on the great storytelling at work, leaving one feeling like we have deviated from the path and found something much more out of place. It is perhaps the greatest shame that the best sub-plot, Anna's lesbianism and her relationship with her father, wasn't given enough room to really be well examined. Anna felt like she could have run with a spotlight on her, but the film just gives us flashes of the intrigue here and not enough to satisfy.

Freud's Last Session is a woefully ugly film to watch, grappling with poor lighting in some locations to capturing awkward blocking in other scenes. The camera doesn't find its subjects except in passing moments, flickers of something visually striking that wasn't dwelt on for long enough. I also found the editing to be very simplistic, the cross-fades that we opened with told me everything I needed to know about what to expect.

Jeremy Northam, who played Ernest Jones, was a wilting performance that made little impact on the screen; Northam just felt like a scene partner who had little to give across from Hopkins. Rhys Mannion, who played Young C.S. Lewis, is about the most generic young man goes to war performance that you could expect; it was certainly the sort of delivery that was comfortable in stereotype. Stephen Campbell Moore, who played J.R.R. Tolkien, felt so small in big shoes; this was a man who was a peer to Lewis but we didn't even really gain that feeling.

This film lacks a lot in technical production, but entirely worth it to watch two titans of acting absolutely capture the screen for nearly two hours. I would give Freud's Last Session a 6.5/10.