Freud's Last Session

Here, the only overdose that's been taken, it's an overdose of acting pills.

It’s not the fault of either star, but the half-baked script makes this an unsatisfyingly thin exploration of the weighty themes it seeks to cover.

Hopkins and Goode give two understated yet im- pressively precise performances.

Instead, though, we get an engineered dead heat, less alive to the power of its ideas than their awards-baity provenance. For a few, that may be enough – but with apologies to Freud himself, sometimes a dud is just a dud.

Not a terribly profound movie, perhaps, but robustly performed and an interesting reminder of the dusty old debates on the point of being swept away by the great horror of the second world war.

Hopkins is always fascinating, always makes it seem as though what he is saying has only just occurred to him, rather than being long dictated. That’s quite an achievement in this talky, stagey film.

Like much of Freud’s legacy, this film presents food for thought that isn’t always as fascinating or easy to digest as its idea’s originators anticipate.

However, Freud’s Last Session never seems to give us a reason to care about what’s happening, making it feel like a lifeless lecture.

I’m a bit puzzled at who this film is for.

Eighty-six-year-old Oscar winner and indelible hambone Anthony Hopkins will never retire, will he?... his latest addition to his vault of the talkative elderly.