The Fault in Our Stars (2014)

The Fault in Our Stars is the latest film adaptation of a wildly popular young adult novel, and while that all may sound tiresome, Josh Boone’s adaptation of John Green’s text thankfully departs from what you’re expecting both by avoiding the impulse to franchise and by crafting itself eloquently and movingly.

Hazel Grace Lancaster (Shailene Woodley), whose thyroid cancer has settled into her lungs, falls in love with fellow support group attendee Augustus Waters (Ansel Elgort), a one-legged survivor of osteosarcoma.  The two fall in love “the way you fall asleep – slowly, then all at once” and bond over Hazel’s favorite novel, An Imperial Affliction.  Soon, they travel with Hazel’s mother (Laura Dern) to Amsterdam to meet the author, Peter van Houten (Willem Dafoe).

What most people will have heard about the film is that it is an unabashed tearjerker.  It is, in fact, the weepiest film since About Time.  The target audience is, apparently, young adults, but don’t be deceived by where the publishing house had slotted the book; the filmmakers are emotional snipers who take aim at the heartstrings of anyone in the audience.  And based on the screening I saw, I suspect that this is one of those “not a dry eye in the house” films.

The Fault in Our Stars is a film about teenagers with cancer, and in a sense a teary audience is a bit like fish in a barrel.  What sets Fault apart from the Lifetime movie-of-the-week version of this story is that the emotions the film engenders really do feel earned.  This is something to which I’ve given a lot of thought – why does a film like this work so well when we’re (or at least, I am) immediately aware that we’re about to be manipulated emotionally?  Part of this, I think, has to do with the way the film frames itself; Hazel tells us repeatedly that hers is the only accurate story about cancer (An Imperial Affliction aside), which sets us on her side quite instantaneously, especially because the entire film is told from her perspective.

The bigger reason that Fault works, ultimately, is that it’s very well told.  Rather than rely on the “kids with cancer” crutch, Boone gives us a pair of very engaging star-crossed lovers in Woodley and Elgort.  Woodley’s gotten a fair bit of press for headlining the Divergent series (though critics seemed less enamored of it), but I do hope that this right here is a star-making performance (gosh, how many “star” puns can I come up with?) because Woodley is for a book reader a definitive Hazel Grace.  She captures all the snarky charm Green gave her, but she’s able to switch on the audience’s waterworks with a well-placed choke in her voice.

To be honest, I did have my reservations about Elgort.  I’d never seen him before, and Augustus Waters is a very difficult character to get just right.  His dialogue can come off as stilted, though this is entirely the point, but Elgort sells lines like “I reject that out of hand” by giving us an Augustus perfectly in line with Hazel’s assessment of him at a picnic near the film’s end.  He’s charming, and the audience falls in love with him when Hazel does.

The nice treat in the film is Willem Dafoe’s turn as the disaffected writer for whom Hazel and Augustus share a fondness.  (He’s also a welcome inclusion for parents or significant others who feel dragged to the film, but that’s neither here nor there.)  Now, Hazel and Augustus travel halfway across the world to meet him in what feels very much like the center of the film, though it’s a scene that doesn’t behave exactly like you would expect.  I’ll try not to spoil things – though I suspect that the kind of people who care about spoilers have already read the book – but putting this scene squarely in the middle of the narrative tells us something important about what I think Green’s endgame is.  Ultimately, I think the film speaks to Louis CK’s line about death; he says, “Lots of things happen after you die—they just don’t involve you.”  Van Houten is one of those things; Laura Dern’s role as the mother is another.  Now, again, this isn’t spoiling anything, but the film is such a heavy meditation on death (“oblivion is inevitable”) that I think it offers something equally poignant about what is left behind – about living in the face of death.

The obvious counter to the threat of death is the promise of memory, and the film is able to end optimistically because of that note.  I think that audiences too will remember this film in a way that we don’t necessarily remember bigger, bloatier franchised young-adult books-to-films like Twilight or The Hunger Games.  Self-contained and infinitely compassionate, The Fault in Our Stars is a fine change of pace from the big blockbuster films of the summer, so pack a tissue or two.

Okay?

The Fault in Our Stars is rated PG-13 for “thematic elements, some sexuality and brief strong language.”  As a movie about teens with cancer, the feels are at eleven, and these “thematic elements” will make you cry.  There’s heavy contemplation about death and the scars cancer leaves behind; the film has a very cheer-worthy F-bomb.  There are two make-out scenes, one played for laughs and the other a very intimate encounter in which clothing is removed but nothing is exposed.