The reason theater performers don’t say “good luck” is largely based on superstition. Such beliefs in spirits or invisible forces that control the outcome of a stage show are anathema to Catholicism. Whether you say certain words and what may or may not happen if they are spoken means little in terms of your relationship with God. As long as you put Him first in your heart, anything can happen, good, bad, or indifferent, and you will still be blessed. Though religion is not a part of today’s film, much less any mention of God, the knowledge that life is incredible is a close approximation thereof, and largely where these characters land. Whenever I can get such results out of a piece of cinema, I am going to be satisfied.

Theater people have their own superstitions about wishing performers well, but Sophie Birenbaum (Sunny Sandler) has considerably more than a bad-luck phrase to worry about in Don’t Say Good Luck. A high school sophomore, Sophie auditions for her school’s production of Waitress (2007) alongside her best friend, Carolyn (Scarlett Estevez). Her mother, Elizabeth Birenbaum (Melanie Lynskey), encourages her, while her father, Ted Birenbaum (Max Greenfield), juggles family life, the couple’s deli, and Sophie’s younger twin brothers. Sophie also has a crush on fellow student Jack Davis (Jack Champion). The day of the audition, however, Elizabeth learns that the cancer she previously survived has returned and is far more serious this time. Ted accidentally butt-dials Sophie while discussing the diagnosis, allowing her to overhear enough to realize what has happened just as she is preparing to audition. Sophie initially wants to leave, but instead channels her shock and fear into her performance. To her surprise, Ms. Parker (Stephanie Beatriz) casts her as Jenna, the lead role everyone expected theater standout Mallory Sinclair (Elyse Bell) to receive. Carolyn receives a smaller part, while Jack plays Dr. Pomatter, putting Sophie in the uncomfortable position of rehearsing romantic scenes with the boy she already likes. Elizabeth and Ted initially try to shield their children from how dire the diagnosis is, and Elizabeth insists that Sophie continue with the show rather than allowing cancer to consume the family’s life. Sophie therefore divides her time between rehearsals and home, trying to enjoy an experience she once desperately wanted while feeling guilty whenever she is away from her mother. The tension also affects her friendship with Carolyn. Even so, the show gives her a community. Mallory proves far kinder than the stereotypical displaced leading lady might be, while Ms. Parker pushes Sophie to trust her talent and find the emotional truth in her performance. Elizabeth helps as well, taking Sophie to the mall so they can practice the Southern accent she needs for Jenna by trying it out on unsuspecting strangers. For a little while, mother and daughter are able to enjoy themselves without every moment revolving around illness, which may not cure cancer but is a worthwhile reminder that suffering does not cancel the obligation to love the life God has given us. Still, things are not getting better, and Elizabeth’s parents, Dale (Steve Buscemi) and Linda (Bebe Neuwirth), arrive to help. Linda is more blunt about the seriousness of the situation and becomes frustrated when Sophie’s rehearsals interfere with family time, particularly around Mother’s Day. Dale takes a gentler approach, recognizing that Sophie is suppressing enormous fear and telling her that she needs to let some of it out, even if she does not want to do so with him. Sophie continues rehearsing, but the boundary between the musical and her family crisis becomes increasingly difficult to maintain. Elizabeth declines physically and worries that she will miss experiences she expected to share with her family, including their traditional summer trip to their beach house. She also fears she may not live long enough to see Sophie perform. Hoping at least to watch part of the show, Elizabeth secretly contacts Ms. Parker about seeing a final rehearsal. When the arrangement becomes known, Sophie feels exposed and lashes out at her mother. Soon afterward, she finally learns the truth that Elizabeth is dying rather than simply enduring another difficult round of treatment. Overwhelmed by guilt for having spent so much time on the musical, Sophie decides she should abandon the performance and stay home. Elizabeth refuses to allow it. Mother and daughter apologize to each other, and Elizabeth makes clear that loving her does not require Sophie to stop living her own life. There is something distinctly Christian in that selflessness: Elizabeth cannot keep her daughter from suffering, but she can refuse to make Sophie’s gifts and joys another casualty of her illness. Sophie rushes back to school for opening night, where her friends have delayed the production long enough for her to return. Onstage, everything she has been carrying gives her the emotional understanding Ms. Parker had been seeking. Sophie performs “She Used to Be Mine” with the fear, anger, love, and anticipatory grief she had previously tried to keep separate from the show. Elizabeth is too ill to attend, but Ted, Sophie’s brothers, grandparents, teachers, and friends watch her complete the performance. Sophie and her theater friends then bring Elizabeth what illness has taken away. They recreate the family’s beloved beach house experience at home, complete with a makeshift beach, allowing Elizabeth to share another treasured family memory without having to travel. Sophie also puts on the maternity dress she wore as Jenna and gives her mother a private performance of the song Elizabeth could not hear in the theater. The film does not show Elizabeth dying or offer an improbable cure. Instead, it leaves mother and daughter together while they still have time, with the two embracing in the final shot.

That final moment in Don’t Say Good Luck is as poignant a cinematic moment as they come, and it is good that they left it there instead of showing Elizabeth’s passing. It is a wise move by director Jula Hart, but it is not the wisest part of the movie. There is a line that struck this Catholic’s heart to the core, and it is when Sophie admits, while dealing with everything, that she “does not know how to do this.” It is a lot for a sixteen-year-old girl, but anyone, regardless of age or gender, who has dealt with losing a loved one to cancer knows of its difficulties. The fact that they are such a close-knit family arguably makes it harder and makes the film that much more touching. The reason I say that line is the wisest part of the movie is because how else can one begin to cope with anything than by acknowledging how unprepared we are for life’s challenges? In times of bliss, we should give thanks to the Lord for our happiness. In times of grief, we should give thanks to the Lord that we cared for someone so much that we would be affected this way. All of it starts with God as its origin, and that is as it should be. However, it is easy to intellectualize such things as I write a movie review. What is also an incredible grace is having others who can remind us of how wonderful everything is in times of despair. It is when we are feeling this way that the statement referenced above rings truest. We do not know how to deal with terrible situations, and there is nothing wrong with that fact. And if we have experience with them, we should be thankful for the wisdom that brings. Again, we come back to a total reliance on God. Though we do not see that idea specifically on display, Elizabeth perfectly models that leaning into something bigger than herself in order to offer her suffering for something beyond herself, in this case Sophie’s future. I pray I can do something similar for others should the need arise.

In the meantime, you can watch Don’t Say Good Luck in order to get a moving example of how to make the best of an awful situation. As crazy as this might seem, doing so is a survival tactic. In terms of Faith, relying on the living God will always be life-giving.