Fairyland<\/em> is based on Alysia Abbott\u2019s 2014 book, subtitled A Memoir of My Father<\/em>. Her father was a poet, who said things like \u201cPoetry doesn\u2019t need to make sense – as long as it makes you feel something\u201d and \u201cIt\u2019s poetic and honorable to live the way we do. Money would just ruin us.\u201d They land in Haight-Asbury, sharing space with a drug dealer and a drag queen; when they first lay eyes on Alysia\u2019s room, it has a bare mattress on the floor and \u201cKILL WHITEY\u201d scrawled on the wall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But their new environment will allow Steve to find a community of like-minded writers and artists; it will also allow him to finally find and explore his true self, because Steve is a gay man. His relationship with his daughter is therefore not an easy one. She calls him daddy and he calls her mouse, and there\u2019s no question that he loves her, but he also loves to go out and meet guys and leave her at home with instructions not to open the door or stay up too late watching television. \u201cYou\u2019re neglecting me!\u201d she objects. \u201cI\u2019m teaching you to be independent!\u201d he replies. Whatever the case, he\u2019s in way over his head, and something clearly needs to change, but nothing does.<\/p>\n\n\n\n You don\u2019t have to do much in the way of math to figure out where this is going. After settling into a Haight that is still running on the exhaust fumes of the Summer of Love, we steamroll ahead into the \u201880s, where the triumphs of gay liberation gives way to the fear and panic of the AIDS crisis. Some of the conflicts are less than subtle, and the early exposition concerning the \u201cgay cancer\u201d is especially clumsy. But the emotional truths of the third act, in which (spoiler alert, but come on) Steve gets sick and has to ask his now college-age daughter to put her life on hold and care for him, hit hard. \u201cDo you know how hard it is for me to ask for things?\u201d he asks her, and she does. But how can she care for this man, in this state, she asks (not unreasonably)? \u201cI wasn\u2019t ready to care for you when your mother died,\u201d he tells her. \u201cBut I did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Among the picture\u2019s many producers is Sofia Coppola, and Durham\u2019s work here recalls her own debut film, The Virgin Suicides<\/em> – not necessarily in its narrative (which is much more sprawling) but in its vibes, the way it simultaneously bathes in \u201870s (and \u201880s) nostalgia, and punctures it. Durham works hard to capture the vibrance of the scene – perhaps too hard, as it occasionally feels a bit too studied and preserved, but he seems to know his way around these neighborhoods, nightclubs, and art galleries. <\/p>\n\n\n\n So do the performers; as the young adult Alysia, Emilia Jones beautifully puts across the mercurial nature of the moody teenager, and how that prickliness can give way to genuine maturity and gravitas. Nessa Dougherty has nearly as tough a job on her hands as the younger Alysia, and handles it with grace beyond her years. And McNairy, long one of our most valuable (and invisible) character actors, finally gets the leading-man showcase he deserves. He\u2019s wonderful, particularly in a long, powerful scene near the film\u2019s (and his character\u2019s) end when he finally, really opens up to his daughter, openly and plainly, about his shortcomings as a parent.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Fairyland<\/em> eventually transcends the cliches of the sick-parent drama by revealing its true subject: it\u2019s about a family getting to a point where they can\u2019t let themselves lie to each other anymore. \u201cWhen you keep a secret for so long, it becomes a part of you,\u201d she explains, and this is a sensitive chronicle of a complicated bond. <\/p>\n\n\n\n “Fairyland” is out this weekend in limited release.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/fairyland2-1024x576.webp\")
<\/figure>\n\n\n\nB+<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n