There’s a preciousness about Sunny Dancer that writer/director George Jaques doesn’t indulge in or endeavor to make the film’s primary focus. Rather, he seems to have allowed the actors the room to elevate his script and breathe their own lives into the film, and it’s there in which this preciousness lies. It’s not about being “life-affirming” or “tearjerking”; it’s just about watching teen characters who have either faced or are facing cancer and finding their friends amid this upheaval. Jaques balances the bitter and the sweet very well, which is why Sunny Dancer comes away with our hearts in its hands.
As one character puts it, these kids have been forced to grow up quickly, facing a reality that could go either way for them. Enter Bella Ramsey’s Ivy, who got the better end of it, her leukemia having gone into remission 10 months prior to this film’s events. Through Ivy, Jaques embodies the frustration of illness, the uncertainty of the future, the loneliness of seclusion, and a deep-seated survivor’s guilt, all of which Ramsey uses to give Ivy appropriate weight and power. But Ramsey also makes sure to give Ivy space to dial all of it back to being just a teenager trying to get along with her well-meaning parents, who pack her off to a four-week summer camp for teenage cancer patients or survivors. Ivy’s developed a thick skin—so thick that even her parents are worried that she’s shutting herself off from them, and being with kids going through the same struggle might help her reconnect.
The moments where we see Ivy free of her cares are what this movie makes us live for, but it makes us earn every one of those moments. From the second she arrives at the CRF Camp, there’s a tug-of-war being played. On one side, there’s the overbearing positivity of camp director Patrick (Neil Patrick Harris) threatening to push Ivy further away. Patrick just wants people to be involved and to have fun, but Ivy’s hard-nosed cynicism starts proving to be a pain in his ass, especially after she insults a visitor meant to be inspirational for the children. There’s common ground to be had, but it has to come at a price that both Ivy and Patrick have to pay; half of the film’s fun is watching Ivy run afoul of Patrick and slowly developing a genuine rapport with him that’s instrumental to the film’s climax.
Speaking of climax, the introduction to the other side of the tug-of-war starts with roommate Ella (Ruby Stokes), a teen whose only objective over these four weeks is to lose her V-Card, preferably to the hunky Tristan (Louis Gaunt), the camp’s outdoorsman specialist. Ella’s also Ivy’s link to The Squad, consisting of the panic attack-prone Jake (Daniel Quinn-Toye), supportive Maisie (Jasmine Elcock), rebel Ralph (Earl Cave), and Archie (Conrad Khan), also known as “Rash Vest” (don’t worry, you’ll find out why). If the CRF attendees were to be classed by high school grade levels, they’d definitely be the wisecracking seniors who sit at the back of the class, chew their gum a little too loudly, and try to get under the skins of whatever authority figure happens to be passing by. They don’t mean anything worse than jibes or taunts, and there’s a good-natured aura that envelopes them and the things they do with each other, even getting into a brawl with local teens who definitely mean worse than playful insults. The other half of the film’s fun is watching Ivy join them, which is where we get to see these kids be joyous and free amongst themselves, out from under the shadow of daily medications and bouts of vomiting.
As I mentioned, Sunny Dancer is packed with both the bitter and sweet, which Jaques handles with sincerity and wit. This film is devoid of the cheese you’d think would be running through its veins; instead, Jaques just wants these kids to be. An air of “let it unfold” permeates this movie, never trying to force anything upon us until it needs to be forced, and with good reason. Up to that point, the film fills itself with the music of teenage conversation, hopes, wants, and realities, resulting in that whimsical tone that gets struck when there’s nothing better to do and no reason to do it because of their condition. Each of the kids has a darkness in them that they face in their own time, and Jaques takes care to give each person’s battle its sincere due. But there’s also love in the offing, which gets treated with the delicate and impish fumblings of teenagerdom.
The Squad is every friend you wish you had—adventurous, kind, cute, and loving. People who’d back you up in a fight or ride into Hell with you. Jaques guides them to a place where we feel like they really have known each other for the years told to us. It gets to the point where we’re not watching actors essaying roles; we’re watching kids genuinely sharing their lives, wishes, and fears with us and each other. Each takes a turn to lead or be led, and we watch as Ivy’s heart grows to allow them in. Bella Ramsey, Daniel Quinn-Toye, Ruby Stokes, Earl Cave, Jasmine Elcock, and Conrad Khan form one of this year’s best ensembles, weaving their characters through and around each other seamlessly. There’s a natural camaraderie that Jaques has been blessed enough to capture with these six actors, making us hang on every scene with ease and a light touch, never straying into melodrama or maudlin insipidness.
The result? A movie that invites you to watch it while demanding your attention, but not in a needy or commanding way. George Jaques doesn’t want to throw fastballs at us and smash us over the head with fatalism or sappy emptiness; instead, we’re given a very real and heartfelt portrayal of kids trying to make the best of the cards life has dealt them, and no one’s even close to having a straight flush. Sunny Dancer asks us to accept this, but it also asks us to accept that these are just kids whose bodies have forced them into dire circumstances. An early scene features the kids talking about someone who isn’t coming back to the camp, and the deft but brief solemnity with which this news is handled sets the tone for how we’re to take this movie until it wisely knocks us flat with its final blow. It’s not all gloom and doom; Sunny Dancer is a spirited, thoughtful, and emotional songbird of a film which doesn’t try to have it both ways. It doesn’t try to make you feel happy when it shouldn’t, and it doesn’t try to make you sob without earning it. To quote George Carlin, “It just is. For a little while.”
