Epic ‘Fairyland’ waves its rainbow flag proudly
With “Fairyland,” Andrew Durham delivers one of the more impressive writing-directing debuts in recent memory. And in the process, brings the fight for LGBTQ rights to the mainstream by presenting it from the affectionate view of a child watching her father find himself amid the love-in that was San Francisco of the 1970s and ’80s.
Not since Armistead Maupin’s “Tales of the City” has a production so well captured the exhilaration of being out of the closet in a community that not only accepts you, but has your back. It’s a far cry from what aspiring writer Steve Abbott (an excellent Scoot McNairy) experienced growing up in the Midwest. There, being gay could not only get you vilified, it could also cost you your life. He felt he had no choice but to succumb to the lie by marrying and starting a family.
So, it’s no surprise that in the wake of his wife’s fatal car crash, he packs up their 8-year-old daughter, Alysia (Nessa Dougherty), and heads west in a vintage VW Bug to discover his true self in San Francisco’s famed Castro District. Although he swears to his straight-laced mother-in-law (Geena Davis) that they aren’t living in a commune, they are, indeed, living in a commune.
Alysia is understandably freaked out at first, sharing a small space with a handful of strange strangers. Among them, an aspiring musician named Eddie (Cody Fern), who we learn is renting the couch in the tiny walk-up leased to former Flower Child, Paulette (Maria Bakalova). In no time, Alysia and Eddie bond, as do Steve and Eddie, who in a blink moves from the sofa to Steve’s bed. It’s a sleeping arrangement that prompts the inquisitive Alysia to ask her Pops why he only dates men. “Because your mother was my favorite girl and I could never love another girl as much as I loved her,” he gently replies.
It’s a fib, of course. But it creates a very tender moment for a kid slowly learning the ways of the world. And that’s the beauty of Durham’s script, in that it adopts a childlike perspective, meaning no on-screen sex, only the love and compassion her Dad finds with other fellas. She accepts it and only slightly judges him, mostly after her peers tease her about it. Even then, Alysia doesn’t understand the fuss.
It’s part of a nuanced performance by Dougherty that enables us to observe a naive child enlightened through life experience. And there is an unmistakable genuineness to it that flawlessly transitions from the pages of Alysia Abbott’s memoir to the screen. It adds a richness to the narrative that allows you to become a part of Steve and Alysia’s lives as their unconditional love is challenged by an intolerant world that repeatedly tests the veracity of their commitment to one another.
No one is totally steadfast, and that is especially true of Alysia as she enters her teens and finds herself torn between defending her dad or staying mum and humoring her homophobic friends who have no idea he’s gay. Now played by Emilia Jones, the breakout star from the Oscar-winning “CODA,” the teenage Alysia tugs at the heartstrings as she endures a constant battle over her love-hate relationship with a dad who often causes her shame and embarrassment but also teaches her the importance of always being yourself, no matter what others may think.
Still, Steve is hardly the greatest father, often leaving the young Alysia parked in front of the TV while he goes out drinking with his various lovers. And the older Alysia is appalled to learn he is using their private lives as fodder for his writings. She’s particularly galled by Steve including the lurid circumstances of her mother’s death in a reading he performs at a poet’s night.
Jones effortlessly communicates the depth of that perceived betrayal, leaving you both empathetic and angered by her refusal to understand where her father is coming from. And it won’t be the first time Alysia is cruel and unfeeling toward him.
Instead of addressing their differences, Alysia runs from them, like choosing to attend college on the East Coast, and later, a semester living in Paris. The kicker is that while she’s away, the constant party that was the Castro in the 1970s has now been crashed by what’s being called “the gay cancer.”
This is around the time “Fairyland” reaches its emotional peak, as Steve and Alysia are fast running out of time to mend their rift. And Durham depicts it winningly, wringing every ounce of pathos, as his film evolves from light comedy to intense drama. Jones is right there with him, expressing profound hurt and regret. Likewise, your heart breaks for Steve, whose career is never what he had hoped. It’s a disappointment compounded by having to witness many of his friends slowly die from a disease few are in a rush to cure. And McNairy infuses his performance with subtle grace.
All the while, you’re riveted by the father-daughter relationship that parallels the rise and fall of Frisco’s gay Utopia. It’s wrenching, but Durham avoids a descent into sentimentality. Every emotion here is convincing, and every plot twist is rooted in the grim reality that even today, being openly gay can sometimes invite scorn. Yet, you’re buoyed by the sight of a daughter so committed to her dad that she’s willing to drop everything whenever he needs her most. It’s quite stirring, and if you’re not weeping by the film’s bittersweet finale, I wouldn’t want to know you.
It’s a lovely story set amid one of America’s most beautiful cities. And few films have made more evocative use of San Francisco’s off-the-tourist-map locations. It’s a city of faults, both human and geographical. And in the City by the Bay, no tremor was greater than the crusade for gay rights during the age of Harvey Milk and the infamous Prop 6 that aimed to promote the ostracization of members of the gay community. It was a time of evolution and revolution that reverberates today and is memorialized in Durham’s wonderfully realized tribute.
Movie review
Fairyland
Rated: R for drug use
Cast: Scoot McNairy, Emilia Jones, Nessa Dougherty, Geena Davis, Maria Bakalova and Cody Fern
Director: Andrew Durham
Writer: Andrew Durham
Runtime: 115 minutes
Where: Currently in theaters (limited)
Grade: B+
