As far as Hollywood is concerned, the true story of Mark OāBrien, poet, journalist and quadriplegic began in 1997 when Jessica Yuās documentary Breathing Lessons: The Life And Work Of Mark OāBrien won the short documentary prize at the 69th Academy Awards. And though the real OāBrien sadly died in 1999, the fictional man lives on in this new feature film.
The Sessions manages to avoid becoming an example what Yu once dismissed as ācourageous cripple storiesā by concentrating on what is, for some, the most troubling part of OāBrienās story: his sex life.
Set in Berkley, California, the late ā80s - a period when, despite long periods of confinement in an iron lung, OāBrienās health allowed him some mobility - it follows his attempts to explore his sexuality, with the aid of a āsex surrogateā.
As is noted in the film, OāBrienās own mind was the site of much of his richest experiences, making this one instance in which the heavy use of a voiceover (one of the most over-used devices in modern cinema) is justified.
John Hawkes, who was so memorably menacing as Teardrop in Winterās Bone , plays OāBrien as an intelligent, likable man with a slightly dorky sense of humour. If you donāt find his gags about moving furniture funny though, thatās tough.
As with The Fighter , which demonstrated in closing credits archive footage that the real-life Dicky Eklund was just as flamboyant as Christian Baleās version, any perceived faults in Hawkeās performance are likely the subjectās own. Thatās as it should be.
If this were one of those ācourageous cripple storiesā, not only would all of OāBrienās rough edges have been smoothed over in pursuit of saintliness, but the lead would be the only obvious Oscar bait. In fact, terrific though Hawkes is, heās flanked on either side by two equally impressive performers.
In her biggest role for some time, Helen Hunt plays Cheryl, the sex surrogate. Cherylās fearless, matter-of-fact compassion for OāBrienās situation is echoed in Huntās fearless, matter-of-fact performance. And William H Macyās shaggy-haired, compassionate clergyman is lovable enough to make Richard Dawkins see the light.
The Sessions is not as visually rich as The Diving Bell And The Butterfly , or as steamy as this yearās Rust And Bone , but it earns a place in the (happily) growing ranks of disability drama by never once patronising its protagonist.