In Gypsy (30 June) Naomi Watts plays Jean Holloway, possibly the world’s worst therapist. You should see the notes she makes while she is with her patients. “Boundaries,” she’ll write, glasses perched on the end of her nose. Then, for emphasis: “BOUNDARIES.” In her Manhattan consulting room, the interior of which resembles the lobby of a uniquely unexciting boutique hotel, she communicates with patients using a grisly combination of 21st-century cliché and self-help mumbo-jumbo.
“It’s a process,” she’ll tell the lightly ruffled types who find themselves on her books. Or: “You were in a serious codependent relationship.” Usually, this kind of thing works a treat. Should it fail to do so, there is always her gently whispered last resort: “This is a safe space.”
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