Matthew Brown’s Freud’s Last Session, based on Mark St. Germain’s play of the same title, should’ve been one of the best films of the year. On paper, it sounds nothing short of remarkable, with a rich premise and two unbeatably gifted actors at its helm, but the execution misses nearly every mark.
What the story and title propose versus what we get are so vastly different that, at times, it feels like we are watching two completely different films. The story supposes what could have happened if neurologist Sigmund Freud and writer C.S. Lewis met and brought their opposing viewpoints to the surface. Cast a legendary actor like Anthony Hopkins to embody Freud and pair him with someone as sharply gifted as Matthew Goode, and we could’ve had an Academy Award contender at our hands. The only problem is that Freud’s Last Session tries harder than it needs to, doubting that compelling conversations can carry a film to absolute completion without the unnecessary use of morose flashbacks.
In fairness, the screenplay is not what’s lacking here, and Brown’s directorial choices aren’t either, but the pacing doesn’t allow viewers to get the meat of where it keeps propelling us to go. The concept of bottle episodes or even films often causes controversial debates among both creators and critics, though when it’s done correctly, it can be deeply impactful. There’s a reason films like 12 Angry Men, The Breakfast Club, Clue, Rear Window, Mass, and many others succeed. Where there’s a need for profound conversations and deconstruction, the message is far more evocative when we aren’t jumping around.
Hopkins and Goode do the best they can with the flashbacks, and the young actors portraying them manage to sell the scene as well, but it doesn’t do anything to advance the uniqueness of the plot. We’re facing two men discussing the most universally complex matter, yet it’s as though the film never wants to stir the pot. It merely throws the ingredients in (in this case, the questions) without fully marinating in the reactions that simmer and stir. There’s a moment in the film where Freud states, “Our moral certainty is the beast,” and that alone is a notion worth analyzing for hours on end. The film could’ve dug deeper and deeper, utilizing its brilliant actors to show with their expressions and physicality what it’s like to look back while simultaneously looking forward.
Yet, it almost feels like because this is based on a play, they wanted to take a different approach and accentuate as many settings as possible. Only still, Freud’s office remains the most riveting backdrop throughout the film, even when Lewis shares a scene with Tolkien at a bar. Ultimately, it’s challenging not to step into Freud’s Last Session wanting total divulgence into the depths of two extraordinary minds exploring the other’s beliefs. The film didn’t need to find a solution or even a middle ground between atheists and Christians. The exploration of Hitler’s horrific reign during World War II also provides yet another detail to dissect and work through, except the film just floats around all of it and fails to allow us to sit with the conversations. At the same time, it introduces Anna Freud and tries to showcase some of her life, but it’s so patchy in how it occurs that you’re never quite sure why it was crammed into such a limited runtime.
In short, there’s too much happening in what should’ve been a glorious exploration of allowing complex conversations to fill a space and take the audience through a whirlwind. As someone who holds a degree in English Literature, I’d hoped it would leave me haunted by conversations that the imagination would linger on, except I was left wanting so much more.
Freud’s Last Session is now available to rent or purchase.