It’s the rare extended family that escapes the toxic reach of addiction. Who doesn’t have at least one ‘black sheep’ who sucks up all the oxygen at family gatherings, inciting hushed whispers and wary glances?

This all too familiar theme about the heartbreak of addiction comes to a head in the tour de force indie film “Krisha,” presented as Vashon Film Society’s First Friday Art Film at 9:30 p.m. on the silver screen of Vashon Theatre.

The movie has quite a personal backstory:

Before my wife Cindy and I moved to the island, one of our best friends in Seattle was a voice actress — and the film’s future star — named Krisha Fairchild. Krisha and I had the same voiceover agent, Tish Lopez, who lives on Vashon with her husband Cornelius, the long-time McMurray math teacher.

Among the many things Cindy and I shared with Krisha was that all three of our families included a lost soul who dominated our attention from halfway across the country. For Krisha, it was her niece, Nica, whom she remembered as “the most precocious, amazing, funny and smart girl in any room.”

Tragically, Nica was introduced to hard drugs at a very young age. She struggled to stay clean over the years, but ultimately overdosed at age 39.

A month before she died, Nica had put the family through the wringer at a dramatic holiday gathering that left a profound impression on her 23-year-old cousin Trey Shults, an aspiring young filmmaker.

Shults wrote a short film inspired by that unforgettable weekend, asking for and receiving the family’s permission to produce it. Then came the full-length feature that rocked the film festival circuit last year and continues to earn astonishing accolades since its theatrical release in March.

Shults’ Aunt Krisha plays the lead role, and at age 64 has erupted into a “breakout star,” scoring rave reviews from The New York Times, Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, Variety and many others. The entire movie was a family affair with roles for Krisha’s sisters and mother. Shults plays Krisha’s estranged son.

“The character I play is not Nica,” says Krisha. “She represents the addict in every family whose experiences lurch through the lives of the people who love and bleed for them. People come up to us after screenings and want to hug us. You can take all your blockbuster movies and push them right off a cliff. Leave us just those hugs, and we will die happy.”

Friday’s screening of “Krisha” will be preceded by a short conversation with Krisha Fairchild from her home in Mexico. Admission at the door is $7.