‘Don’t Say Good Luck’ Netflix Review: Sunny Sandler Leads a Warm, Winning Family Drama

In theater lingo, you don’t say «good luck» before a performance. In much of Latin America, the customary expression is «mierda» («shit») or «mucha mierda» («lots of shit»), borrowed from the French merde. In the United States, the equivalent is different: break a leg. At heart, though, they mean the same thing—a kind of reverse psychology, wishing someone bad luck in the hope that good luck will follow. That wordplay comes together in Don’t Say Good Luck, the latest film from Adam Sandler’s production company, continuing his role as the supportive father of what some might dismiss as his «nepo babies.»

The truth is that the films Sandler has produced starring his daughters, Sunny and Sadie, have been more than respectable: solid, engaging takes on teen genres like comedy and family drama, all framed as coming-of-age stories. Here, it’s Sunny—the younger daughter, now 18—who takes center stage, playing a 16-year-old who dreams of starring in her school’s musical while simultaneously coping with her mother’s health crisis. While it doesn’t reinvent the formula, this latest Happy Madison production—like You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah before it—has a remarkable warmth and freshness that reflect both the good instincts behind the project and the natural appeal of its young stars.

Sunny (with older sister Sadie absent this time, as are Adam Sandler and his wife) plays Sophie Birenbaum, a teenager who loves acting and singing and auditions for her high school’s production of Waitress. (A side note: the history of both the musical and the film that inspired it is a story for another article.) Sophie lives with her parents, Elizabeth (Melanie Lynskey) and Ted (Max Greenfield), along with her mischievous younger twin brothers, who keep the household in constant chaos. But her plans are disrupted when she learns that her mother’s cancer, previously in remission, has returned. Suddenly, Sophie must figure out how to balance these two very different parts of her life.

When she lands the lead role in the musical, rehearsals become demanding enough on their own. Adding to the pressure is the fact that the boy she likes (Jack Champion) has been cast opposite her—and she has to kiss him onstage. But the news of her mother’s illness quickly overshadows everything else. Meanwhile, Elizabeth and Ted, who run a small restaurant together, decide it’s better for Sophie to focus on being a normal teenager than on worrying about her mother’s condition, so they shield her from just how serious things have become.

Don’t Say Good Luck splits its attention between Sophie’s school life—which includes a strained friendship with her best friend (Scarlett Estevez), who begins distancing herself for reasons Sophie doesn’t initially understand; a classmate (Elyse Bell) who’s interested in the same boy; and Sophie’s own anxiety about carrying the show’s lead role under the guidance of the kind-hearted drama teacher, Ms. Morales—and the steadily worsening situation at home, where Sophie’s grandparents (Bebe Neuwirth and Steve Buscemi) arrive to help care for her increasingly frail mother.

Co-written and directed by Julia Hart (Fast Color, I’m Your Woman), the film is funnier and lighter than one might expect from what is, on paper, a «cancer movie.» At the same time, it embraces its emotional, unabashedly tearjerking side, ultimately heading toward a predictable conclusion—though in a somewhat more elaborate way than necessary. Lynskey, as always, brings authenticity and humanity to a role written in fairly conventional terms (her character is portrayed as little short of a saint), while young Sunny Sandler once again displays an unaffected naturalism that avoids the usual child-actor clichés. Even her singing, tackling demanding Broadway numbers, has an unpolished warmth that gives it more nuance than the technically polished performances of her fellow cast members within the musical.

Happy Madison—the company best known for Adam Sandler’s broad comedies—appears to have found an appealing niche in partnership with Netflix: teen-oriented films that remain accessible to audiences of all ages. These movies all share a sense of humor, charm, and occasional connections to Sandler’s cinematic universe through actors or references, yet they have a perspective and emotional sensibility all their own. They’re far more than a famous father’s vanity projects for his daughters. If anything, this film makes it clear that the Sandler family has ushered in a new generation of genuine talent.