Kiss and Cry (2017)

Kiss and Cry is special because it refuses to turn a true story into a tidy “issue movie,” instead letting Carley’s bright, stubborn joy shine through the romance, the rink, and the music like a steady spotlight. Sarah Fisher gives a disarmingly open performance that makes Carley feel vividly present, while Luke Bilyk brings a gentle sincerity to the young love story that never feels manufactured. The vibe is heartfelt and uplifting without denying the hard parts—there are frank, sometimes difficult medical scenes, but they’re handled with a clear purpose: to honor resilience rather than chase tears. If you’re allergic to earnest, inspirational dramas, it may feel a bit direct, but if you want a romantic, music-tinged story that leaves you feeling grateful and quietly energized, this one earns its emotional punch.

Kiss and Cry is clearly trying to honor Carley Allison’s real-life courage by blending young romance, music, and a feel-good “keep smiling” spirit through a brutal medical fight. The problem is it often plays like an inspirational highlight reel—earnest, glossy, and emotionally signposted—so if you want nuance, messy complexity, or a more challenging take on illness and grief, this may feel a bit too tidy and on-the-nose. It also doesn’t shy away from medical procedures and treatment details, which can be upsetting if you’re sensitive to hospital scenes. Still, the leads are likable and the music/skating angle gives it a sincere, uplifting pulse, so it can work if you’re specifically in the mood for a straightforward tearjerker tribute rather than a subtle drama.