Suncoast is a story that's very close to director/writer Laura Chinn's heart.
Fresh off a glittering Sundance run, the coming-of-age drama follows a teen girl dealing with her dying brother and overbearing mother, against the backdrop of one of the most famous right-to-die cases in US history.
This is Chinn's experience almost to a tee; back in the early 2000's her brother was dying from brain cancer in the same hospice as Terri Schiavo, as she details in her memoir Acne.
Schiavo is a huge (albeit off-screen) character in Suncoast and the film assumes you know who she is, but in case you don't…
In 1990, 26-year-old Floridian Terri Schiavo went into cardiac arrest, which led her to being diagnosed as in a persistent vegetative state.
What followed was a 15-year fight.
After years of attempting various experimental treatments, in 1998 Schiavo's husband petitioned the Court of Florida to remove her feeding tube — the only thing keeping her alive — saying she would not have wanted to prolong artificial life support without the prospect of recovery. But her parents fought fiercely for the tube to remain in place.
Schiavo went through many more years of being a football in the US courts, as her feeding tube was removed and reapplied in line with various court orders. In the end there were 14 appeals and numerous legal motions, petitions and hearings, with president George W Bush intervening to move the case to the federal courts.
A federal judge finally ruled in favour of Schiavo's husband in 2005, and her feeding tube was removed permanently on March 18. She died on March 31.
The tragic case became the catalyst for a political firestorm between the left and right of US politics, with protesters consistently picketing Schiavo's hospice and trying to give her food and water.
This is the conflict that's bubbling along angrily on the sidelines of Suncoast.
But it's all background noise for Doris (Nico Parker), whose purpose at Suncoast hospice is to keep her brother Max company (Cree Kawa) and be a punching bag for her grief-crazy mum, Kristine (Laura Linney).
A tricky mother/daughter relationship
Doris is suffering under a textbook case of parentification, her childhood entirely consumed by her brother's care and her mother's inability to balance that care with her healthy daughter.
Kristine's treatment of Doris borders on cartoonishly cruel: she berates and criticises her daughter while also saying creepy things like: "The handsome ones never stay, like your brother" in reaction to Doris telling her that Brad Pitt left Jennifer Aniston (it's 2005).
It doesn't help that Doris is painfully shy, unwilling or unable to stand up to even the dullest of her mother's barbs.
Taking a chance on an overheard conversation, Doris soon finds herself in a new world of harmless teenage mayhem. It's refreshing to see the too-old-for-her-age Doris indulge in rites of passage like house parties, underage drinking and first crushes, blossoming within the normality of it all.
But time and time again her ideal vision of teenage-dom is ripped down by her complicated feelings towards her brother and her mother's acidic treatment.
There's a way to do the prickly and complicated mother/daughter relationship without turning one of the parties into a villain — just look at Lady Bird.
But Suncoast never really finds the balance. Kristine gets nary a beam of sunlight within her character, despite the humanising efforts of a conveniently placed grief counsellor and Laura Linney's soft charm. The character continues to make decisions and act out in ways that feel disproportionate to even those in the deepest depths of despair.
Oh, also Woody Harrelson is there? He plays Paul, one of the protesters outside the hospice trying to save a comatose Schiavo; he meets Doris while covering her lunch at a diner (did he…follow her there?).
Paul's wife died suddenly from a brain aneurysm, which led him to start protesting outside of hospices because every second of life is precious to him — regardless of the wishes of the person embodying that life.
Harrelson, so charming and quick in comedies, so affecting in dramas, is redundant in this role. Paul is supposed to represent humanity on the side of the protesters, the sympathetic face of those that feel they understand personal bodily agency the most.
But, in reality, he pops up every 20 minutes or so, lets some empty cliches fall from his mouth and then disappears. And, despite Kristine's extreme disinterest in her daughter's life, it's still a little unnerving that Doris is free to up and go on road trips with a random 50-something man.
A buried coming-of-age tale
Suncoast shines so bright when focusing on its younger cast, especially the trio of girls (Ella Anderson, Daniella Taylor and Ariel Martin) that take Doris under their wing.
Their dialogue feels so lived in, so familiar to those who have spent any amount of time with high school girls. It's beguiling to see Doris crack open her thick shell to the nurturing warmth of her friend group (okay, one of them is kind of a bitch but that's just teenagers).
The look inside the regular lives of teens in 2005 and seeing Doris trying to contort comfortably into it is so good you'll wish the film donated a little more time to this and a little less to Harrelson's magical advice.
Nico Parker as Doris is a highlight, continuing on the path of her breakout role in the Last of Us. Her subtlety as an overlooked teen is only trumped by the explosive emotion she emits once her mask is dissolved.
Sonically, the movie is a winner: the brilliant music supervision utilises the top 40 of a bygone era (Christina Milian, Pussycat Dolls) so perfectly you'll almost feel like you're in the early 2000s.
There's a solid coming-of-age-film buried within Suncoast. The juxtaposition of a life that is just starting against one cut unfairly short is an interesting concept.
But the conversation around the right to die feels underbaked, and some characters might need a little longer in the oven as well.
Suncoast is streaming on Disney+ now.