Freud's Last Session
Martin Rayner and Mark H. Dold give solid performances in Mark St. Germain's thought-provoking play which imagines a meeting between Sigmund Freud and C.S. Lewis.
As the playwright imagines it, the meeting would have been a lively, joke-filled debate, during which the men, approaching life from polar extremes, find themselves bonding in ways they might not have expected.
As might have been expected, however, the encounter, set in the study of Freud's home in London (which has been gorgeously imagined as a room straddling the 19th and 20th centuries by scenic designer Brian Prather), begins with an overly cute misunderstanding between the two men. Lewis (Mark H. Dold) believes that Freud (Martin Rayner) has summoned him to reprimand him about Sigismunde, a thinly veiled caricature of Freud found in Lewis' Pilgrim's Regress. Freud assures the younger man -- who has arrived unfashionably late -- that their meeting has nothing to do with the book, but rather Lewis' conversion from atheism to theism. Soon, the men's debate -- which includes a healthy dose of mutual psychoanalysis on both parts -- is off and running.
As if having two great minds arguing the existence of God in one room were not enough, the playwright raises the stakes by setting the play on September 3, 1939, the day on which England entered World War II. While St. Germain uses the backdrop of impending war to terrific effect at one point -- when they argue why God might allow a man like Hitler to exist -- the moments when the men turn to the radio to listen to urgent news broadcasts or when air raid sirens wail, sending both men scrambling for their gas masks, ultimately seem like dramaturgical devices to ensure that theatergoers' interest in the piece doesn't falter.
Both Rayner and Dold deliver solid, yet never entirely remarkable, performances. Rayner, surprisingly spry as the aging and cancer-ridden Freud, handles the crowd-pleasing zingers in St. Germain's script with aplomb, but his best work comes in the play's less obvious moments, when Freud turns subtly wry. In such instances, he imbues the character with not only intelligence and insight, but also an impishness that endears.