I watched a very impressive film last night called “How to die in Oregon” (tricky to get as a UK DVD, but easy to download on iTunes).  It’s a 108 minute documentary that was released in 2012.  The plot summary reads “In 1994, Oregon became the first state to legalise physician-assisted suicide.  As a result, any individual whom two physicians diagnose as having less than six months to live can lawfully request a fatal dose of barbiturate to end his or her life.  Since 1994, more than 500 Oregonians have taken their mortality into their own hands.  In How to Die in Oregon, filmmaker Peter Richardson gently enters the lives of the terminally ill as they consider whether, and when, to end their lives by lethal overdose.  Richardson examines both sides of this complex, em

A few days ago a client lent me a DVD of the film Groundhog Day.  It's a whimsical comedy about a guy who finds himself in a weird time loop where he has to repeat the same day again, and again, and again.  Luckily for him, he isn't condemned to act the same way every time.  He has choice.  A bit like each of us, he can experiment with trying different responses - and he gradually shifts from being a self-centred, unkind, impatient prima donna to someone much more caring, fun and worth being around.  My client talked about how much the film had helped him, and this led me to thinking again about the use of film as "therapy".