Daydream, written and directed by Jackson Cooperman, is his debut feature-length film and a heartfelt drama drawn from his own memories of sixth grade in 2008. Cooperman captures the awkward chaos of middle school with surprising honesty. Underneath it sits something heavier involving grief, silence, and a kid left to process emotions the adults refuse to touch.
Nick (Kieran Patrick) is a withdrawn middle school student who drifts through class disconnected from the people around him. English class feels like another obligation until his teacher, Mrs. Aimette (Maura Aimette), assigns a personal essay about someone who inspired him. Nick writes about his mother, opening emotional territory his father (Kevin C. Carr) refuses to discuss. Mrs. Aimette notices his discomfort and asks him to stay after school for extra help.
At their first session, it becomes clear Nick is struggling with writing about his mother. Mrs. Aimette has him think of three questions he would ask her, and what begins as tutoring slowly becomes a turning point in his life. Over time, Nick begins to engage more, eventually finding the courage to confront his father about the silence surrounding her.
The story unfolds through quiet classroom moments, reflective scenes at home, and exchanges between Nick and Mrs. Aimette. As Nick becomes more invested in writing, the film shifts from routine adolescence into something more personal, where a school assignment becomes an attempt to understand loss. Some of the strongest moments come when Mrs. Aimette recognizes what Nick is trying to say before he fully understands it himself.
“… a heartfelt drama drawn from his own memories of sixth grade …”
Kieran Patrick plays Nick with restraint, avoiding the exaggerated style common in coming-of-age performances. Kevin C. Carr brings a quiet, emotionally closed-off presence to Nick’s father, shaping the home life tension through silence. Maura Aimette, Cooperman’s real-life sixth-grade teacher, brings a natural ease to the role, grounding the film in lived experience. Her work with Nick builds toward the three questions exercise, which lands with real emotional weight. Their scenes together feel unforced and honest.
Visually, Daydream stays intimate and restrained. The classroom becomes a space of openness, while the home environment feels colder and more distant. Cinematographer Brian Wennersten emphasizes faces, pauses, and reactions over stylization, strengthening the emotional core.
The film is reflective without becoming sentimental. There is a steady sense of memory running through it, as if Cooperman is revisiting a moment he still hasn’t fully resolved. You may find yourself thinking about the teachers who recognized something in you before anyone else did. The story works because it trusts small moments to carry emotional weight.
Daydream succeeds because it understands that small moments often leave the deepest marks. Some teachers teach subjects. Others quietly change lives.
Learn more at the official Daydream website.
"…reflective without becoming sentimental."
