Dying for Sex starring Michelle Williams and showing on Disney+ is a mini-series about a woman, Molly, with metastatic breast cancer who, on hearing the cancer is terminal, ends her 15 year marriage and begins to explore her own sexuality.
Based on a true story, and a podcast of the same name, the series is a must-watch for therapists who work with clients who are experiencing issues with death, dying, friendship and sex as well as cancer (though Molly’s response to hearing she has Stage Four cancer might be so individual as to be of little interest or comfort to those experiencing or working with the disease). The parts of the drama-comedy which tackle attitudes to sex and death are those that I feel could be usefully included in some counselling training courses.
The reason the programme is so powerful is partly due to the performances of Michelle Williams, Jenny Slate (playing her best friend Nikki) and the rest of the cast, but largely because it meets all its subjects head on. As someone who is dying, Molly’s way of remaining connected to her living self is to go in search of satisfying sex (specifically, an orgasm). She’s not had sex since her cancer diagnosis because, as she recalls during couple therapy, her husband said her bald head made him think about his dad.
The comedy in Dying for Sex is often dark and revealing. It reflects the reality that relationships between couples, families and friendship groups can become strained following a terminal diagnosis. How some family and friends, in this case Molly’s husband Steve (Jay Duplass) and her mother, Gail (Sissy Spacek) are at first more concerned with the impact on themselves than Molly. The series also touches on the not uncommon competitive edge that can emerge between relatives and friends about who ‘cares most’ about the person who is dying.
Molly’s sexual adventures, which propel the narrative, are not remotely vanilla. With a feeling that she has nothing to lose, Molly embraces the worlds of foot fetish, BDSM and, most comedically of all, golden showers. This is where one or other partner wishes to be urinated on and, on occasion, wants to drink the other’s pee. If you listen to the wonderful Dying for Sex 2020 podcast series you’ll hear real life Molly Kochan tell her squirming friend Nikki Boyer an exquisite detail, boldly included in the TV drama, when she realises that her pee probably contained chemo and checking with her consultant in case the sexual partner in question was in any physical danger as a result. It is, of course, as played, very funny but it also reminds us, once again, that Molly’s life is quite different, challenging and ending.
Molly is fascinated by the kinks she encounters and is, most importantly, non-judgemental. Her new sexual partners are often people ‘like us’ seeking sexual pleasure in unconventional ways and are not weirdos or psychopaths. Her acceptance gives us viewers a chance to feel that too.
One of the most powerful punches to a series which is in turns deeply sad and hugely comic, comes towards the end when a palliative nurse tells it like it is. The straightforward way that the nurse tells Molly what it is like when life comes to an end is a masterclass. I suspect anyone watching this who has been with a dying person would share with me the desire to have heard this speech in preparation for that experience. I don’t believe I’ve heard anything like it in a drama or factual TV programme before. How the drama responds is both playful and poignant.
I loved Dying for Sex. I did find it educational, but mostly I found it compassionate, funny and, once again, made me grateful for female friendship. It also allowed me to cry cathartic tears. In some ways the series is not for the faint-hearted, but in others it’s probably exactly what we need.
