‘Don’t Say Good Luck’ Review: Melanie Lynskey and Sunny Sandler Are Trying to Break Your Heart

And they will in filmmaker Julia Hart's tender and honest coming-of-age cancer drama, which comes with a welcome side of high school musical.

Sophie Birenbaum is a good kid. She’s close with her parents, doting on her wild younger brothers, tight with her best pal, a good student, and a hell of rising star in the high school musical realm. She’s learning how to drive (cautiously) and auditioning for this season’s big production (“Waitress,” which apparently high schools do put on, and God love ’em for that). She doesn’t cause much trouble and is focused on the future, but she’s not a geek or a scold or a tattletale. She’s a nice kid, from a nice family.

And, in Julia Hart’s winning and wise “Don’t Say Good Luck,” we watch that nice kid and her nice family take on the kind of everyday tragedy too many people are forced to endure. As upsetting as that might sound, Hart’s deft handling of tough material is on full display here, as is a pair of truly lovely performances from Sunny Sandler (Sophie herself) and the unimpeachable Melanie Lynskey as her mother Elizabeth. (Not for nothing, these two are wonderful together, and just heartbreaking.)

Hart’s film drops us into the world of the Birenbaums with ease. The five-person clan (including a charming Max Greenfield as patriarch Ted, and Eitan Friedman and Matan Friedman as those wild brothers) live in relative domestic tranquility in Small Town Anywhere, USA. Ted owns a local bagel shop, where he’s gently trying to introduce a handful of healthier options, and he’s got a real problem with his phone, which tends to butt dial the family at random.

Typically, it’s Sophie who gets those calls, dealing with them in classic teenage fashion (sigh, eyeroll, hang up). It’s one of those butt dials that clues Sophie in to what’s really going on with her parents, who have been a little cagey as of late. At just 95 minutes, Hart’s film is all about storytelling economy, but the choice to simply reveal that Elizabeth’s cancer has returned is handled in a way that’s both matter-of-fact and true-to-life. “It came back,” Sophie tells her best friend Carolyn (Scarlett Estevez). Whole worlds are contained in that phrase. (Other storylines suffer a bit from the tight nature of the script, particularly when it comes to other familial bonds.)

But Elizabeth’s cancer is not the only thing happening in “Don’t Say Good Luck,” which isn’t so much about how life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans, but when all those plans (good, bad, ugly) converge on each other. Just as Sophie is dealing with the news that her mom might not make it this time, something great happens: she lands the lead role in “Waitress,” a twist that allows Sandler the chance to sing, dance, act, and act even more (acting on top of acting?) in one tidy package. She’s up for all of it.

The musical elements injects some often necessary and occasionally over-the-top humor into the film — if you know theater kids, you can guess some of the fun diversions on offer here, like ahem, not saying “good luck” — while also hammering home the idea that life doesn’t stop even when, well, life itself might be stopping. There are heady ideas here, but they’re handled with grace.

And when Elizabeth’s parents (Bebe Neuwirth and Steve Buscemi!) arrive on the scene, they also help us get to know her better, as the elders simply cannot understand why Elizabeth and Ted are letting Sophie sing and dance around during this terrible time. Shouldn’t she be at home? Shouldn’t she be helping her mom? Shouldn’t (insert any other similar bold decree that woefully misunderstands what it means to embrace life, no matter the timing)?!

Hart and her husband and producer Jordan Horowitz co-wrote the script alongside Laura Hankin, who was inspired by her own experiences with similar material. Like Sophie, a young Hankin nabbed a major part in her high school musical, just as her mother was grappling with a cancer diagnosis. Most audience members won’t need to be told that the film is inspired by true events to feel it in the details, like a small moment at a local restaurant in which a local friend wails over Elizabeth’s diagnosis, somehow making her own pain the main event. If you’ve ever been through something like the Birenbaums, these honest and lived-in touches will stand out.

That relatability is what appeals most about “Don’t Say Good Luck,” the kind of nuance that isn’t always so readily available in straight-to-streaming movies that partially hinge on an audience’s interest in the ascendency of a (sorry, sorry) nepo baby who clearly has her own, quite wide skill set. This is complex material, handled with love, and that care could only come from a truly talented and tuned-in array of creatives. This is, then, a great compliment: this is a nice film, about a nice kid and a nice family and some terrifyingly common issues. More of that, please.

Grade: B

“Don’t Say Good Luck” will start streaming on Netflix on Friday, August 14.