NEGenge at 2013-08-02 07:38:57:
No one suggested it this week - and I couldn't find the film clip for it - but, my favorite eulogy scene is from The Sessions, the story of a man with significant physical challenges (John Hawkes as Mark) who decides he'd really like to know about sex, experience sex, before he eventually dies. He hires a sex therapist, Cheryl (Helen Hunt) to help him figure it all out.
I like the eulogy scene in The Sessions not only for it's great speech, but because the scene is still doing work!
In the church, Cheryl sits with her husband Josh (Adam Arkin) - a husband who, generally, had no problem with her work, but sensed that there was something different, personal, dangerous to his relationship with his wife, in this particular client.
As the priest talks about love, and how Mark considered himself so lucky to have known love, including physical love, there's this moment when Josh really gets to see how special this guy was - and what a special thing his wife helped him accomplish. Mark, empowered by knowledge and new emotions, would go on to have a complete relationship with someone else.
It's a great film - and the eulogy scene is no different, packed with quiet visual moments that are bumped up by the great dialogue delivered by the often-conflicted Father Brendan, played by William H. Macy.
INT. CHURCH. DAY 169
Father Brendan delivers a eulogy. We see members of Mark's FAMILY, all teary-eyed.
FATHER BRENDAN (TO MARK)
Mark, I know you're watching. I’m
sorry, my friend, but we have to do
this. Just bear with me, and I
think you might like it.
FATHER BRENDAN (TO THE CONGREGATION)
(CONT’D)
I've been branching out lately,
reading Native American stories
about the character of the
trickster. Sometimes he shows up
as a coyote, sometimes as a raven,
but he always does the unexpected.
The trickster breaks the rules.
Mark O'Brien, whose life we're
celebrating today, was very much
the trickster -- anyone who knew
him knew that.
Besides his irreverent humor and
alarming honesty, he always did the
unexpected.
In nearly every aspect of his life,
Mark did the unexpected. His was a
dynamic voice in a paralyzed body,
a full life lived long after he
should have been dead. He
graduated from college, wrote and
published articles and poems, and --
against all odds, by his own
admission -- entered into the fully
human experience of physical love.
In this way, Mark lived from day to
day to day, from breath to breath
to breath, for 49 years. He loved,
and he was loved and in his quiet
voice, he spoke loud truths.