Parents' Guide to Fairyland

This tender, gentle drama based on Alysia Abbott's 2014 memoir gets right to the rhythms of life, capturing wonderful moments, not-so-wonderful moments, and the struggles between. The feature writing and directing debut of Andrew Durham, Fairyland uses realistic character dynamics and subtle performances to give its drama impact. San Francisco is a character here, too, a funky, weird place for Alysia to grow up. A lot of what she experiences probably isn't appropriate for a child—the minute they show up at the door, Paulette hands them bags of weed—but she's young enough that it all becomes normal for her. And then there are those sweet moments when Steve manages to do something right, like cuddling with her in the sleepy morning or building her a cardboard castle for her birthday.

The dynamic changes in the second part, when Durham switches from grungy film stock to a brighter, cleaner look for the 1980s. Alysia is now older, and, as played by Jones, is able to relate to her father on a whole different level. The movie avoids the sadder hospital-related aspects that can overwhelm stories like this, focusing instead on the spaces between the characters as they struggle to converse and connect. The performances are all top-notch, especially McNairy's (he transforms almost totally between the two time periods), but Bakalova manages to break hearts with just a couple of small scenes, and Geena Davis brings a prickly humanity as Steve's mother-in-law and Alysia's grandma, who loves Alysia but is forever disapproving of Steve's lifestyle and parenting choices. Fairyland is a special movie for San Franciscans, for LGBTQ+ viewers, and for humans anywhere.