Crow

It's a CanLit Hallmark movie which means a lot more cussing, smoking and the looming spectre of death. Toronto wannabe returns to her rural roots in Cape Breton after she finds her fiance inappropriately entwined with his boss. And so Stacey Fortune, or Crow as she's know back home, finds herself back in her mother's old trailer facing her all too imminent demise thanks to a mass of brain tumours she's nicknamed R Parry Homunculus, Ziggy Stardust, and Fuzzy Wuzzy.

And so we have a foul-mouthed diarist with nothing to lose recounting the last days of her life in the tenor of someone who grew up in the 80's where you could have acquaintances you'd refer to as Willy Gimp, Becky Chickenshit, Duke the Puke and Skroink. It reads like a Canadian made dramedy - less thoughtful interiority and more eclectic small town characters chewing up the scenery like the unhinged tree talking prognosticator and the straight from central casting wealthy villainess. It's Anne of Green Gables meets Trailer Park Boys - pretty broad but entirely winning nonetheless.