The Fault in Our Stars Revisited: At Times Cheesy, At Times Lovey-Dovey, and At Times Powerfully Relatable (Film Analysis)

Look, I’m not going to sit here and write that The Fault in Our Stars isn’t cheesy, or sappy, or lovey-dovey at times.  The film has these aspects, it embraces them to the point of occasionally being cringy.  Two teenagers making out in the Anne Frank House while those around them clap and cheer is not what I consider quality writing.  The thing is, The Fault in Our Stars is still effective with its story, and at its highest points, downright powerful.  That’s because beneath the cheese, and sappiness, and lovey-dovey affection, are two very human characters portrayed by two talented actors—and its these actors who keep The Fault in Our Stars enjoyable and fresh during the lowest of times and potently compelling during its better-written scenes.

Note: This is my second review of The Fault in Our Stars.  Here's my original review from 2014, written back when the film first released.

Hazel Grace Lancaster (Shailene Woodley) is a 16-something teenager with terminal thyroid cancer—forcing her to drag around an oxygen tank connected to her nostrils.  Augustus Waters (Ansel Elgort) is an 18-year-old with bone cancer—having lost a leg from the disease.  The duo first meets at a support group and it’s in this very first interaction that the film’s premise begins to click.  It starts off as a cliché—the forlorn girl who doesn’t think she’s attractive accidentally bumps into the very attractive boy with a charming smile.  She practically has a double-take at the handsome stranger and gets a bit flustered as he smoothly walks away.  It’s in the last few seconds that the scene pulls a complete one-eighty turn around as the boy looks back to smile at the girl…and runs right into a door frame—giving an embarrassed smile as he pats the frame and awkwardly goes through the door.

It’s an issue with many teenage romance stories to make the protagonist’s love interest somewhat, if not completely, perfect in every way.  It’s in making these characters “perfect” that they end up bland and unrelatable.  We expect the protagonist to perform an awkward action like bumping into something, but for the attractive love interest to also bump into something is uncommon and refreshing despite its seeming insignificance.  It immediately establishes Augustus is capable of relatable human missteps and blunders in spite of his archetype role—a character trait that will continue showing itself down the line in far more blatant, potent fashion.

When first hanging out, Hazel and Augustus actively get to know each other—their interactions naturally informing the audience, leaving no one in the dark.  Augustus is a charmingly blunt jokester type of guy (the type who laughs at a funeral). He initially comes across as somewhat insensitive, yet is actually very compassionate towards those he cares about.  There’s a scene where Hazel becomes out-of-breath from walking downstairs to Augustus’ mancave basement.  When she asks if she can sit down, Augustus jovially replies, “Yeah…Mi casa es tu casa”—yet when an embarrassed Hazel tries explaining her lack of breath, Augustus’s demeanor ever-so-slightly changes to a more thoughtful, yet uncomfortable tone (briefly looking away in the opposite direction).

What I love about this moment is how Augustus continues smiling despite his change of tone.  While Augustus’ cheerful attitude is genuine, it also serves as a mask to defend against the world’s harsh realities and cruelties.  He prefers to view the world through rose-colored glasses—ever optimistic and jovial—and enjoy it rather than wallow in sorrow.  That said, Augustus is bright enough to know when to take the glasses off (though there are also times where the glasses are forced off), as seen when he more seriously asks if she’s alright as she continues to breathe heavily (when Hazel responds yes, his demeanor immediately bounces back to its jovial self).

Ansel Elgort does a commendable job effectively conveying Augustus’s various moods.  Shailene Woodley also impresses with her performance.  It’s a minor detail, but she does a stellar job at pulling off the out-of-breath scenes, really conveying the hardships Hazel experiences from everyday activities like walking downstairs.  Shailene does a fantastic job of capturing the mannerisms of a teenager.  Take, for example, the scene where Augustus emails and gets a response from Hazel’s favorite book author Peter Van Houten (Willem Dafoe, whose inclusion is an automatic bonus point for the film).  There’s this moment where Hazel sits right up—just beginning to grasp the situation yet still unbelieving—expressionlessly stating “Augustus?...What are you doing?” before bursting into stuttering excitement over the E-mail.

Using Augustus’ Make-A-Wish, the two travel to Amsterdam to meet Van Houten—hoping to discover what happens after the book’s abrupt ending.  This is also where the infamous Anne Frank House kissing scene occurs.  There is a purpose to the Anne Frank House scene.  In the house, Hazel and the audience hear tapes of Anne Frank’s diary—her hopefulness and optimistic tone in spite of horrifying circumstances.  It parallels (to an extent) Hazel’s own life and plays as a sort of inspiration for her to climb the many staircases of the museum.  At the top, Anne’s words about not thinking about the misery, but instead about the beauty still around her and being happy sparks Hazel to kiss Augustus for the first time and form a romantic relationship, despite their circumstances more than likely to lead to a tragic end.  The clapping onlookers is a bit too much, however, as no rational human would cheer two making out teenagers in the Anne Frank House (it's like an unironic version of the Seinfeld episode where Jerry and his girlfriend make out while seeing Schindler’s List).

MAJOR SPOILERS FROM THIS POINT ONWARD:

The Fault in Our Stars can get serious, however, and not in a melodramatic manner, but in a grounded, uncomfortably realistic way.  There’s a lot of positive buildup to Hazel and Augustus’ meeting with Peter Van Houten.  He’s given this almost mystical status—bringing the two closer together, writing them inspirational letters, mysteriously knowing where they are, and paying for a fancy dinner.  Yet expectations aren’t always the same as reality, as it turns out it was Van Houten’s kind assistant (Lotte Verbeek) who did all those things.  Van Houten himself is actually a cruel drunk—turned such way from the death of his daughter—cynical and nasty at everything and everyone.  His meeting with Hazel and Augustus starts off uncomfortable and gets worse by the second—ending with an enraged Hazel shouting “Go f@#% yourself!” to Van Houten (a very satisfying time to use the PG-13 film’s single F-bomb).  It’s a painful scene to watch, mostly because of how much the film builds up Hazel’s admiration for Van Houten.  I don’t even want to imagine the pain I’d feel if I had the chance to meet one of my celebrity idols, only for them to turn out this abrasive and meanspirited in reality.

It really comes down to that.  Relatability being the key to The Fault in Our Star’s potent success.  I can relate to Hazel and Augustus as characters—understand their motives, mannerisms, hopes, fears, etc.  Woodley and Elgort do a great job conveying these characteristics.  When I first saw The Fault in Our Stars, the most standout scene for me is when Augustus has a full breakdown in his truck as his health worsens.  The rawness of this scene as the film’s charming, handsome love interest devolves into a sobbing mess of spit and snot is an uncommonly powerful sight.  Its unapologetic, bare realism of such male archetype is a place few teen romance films have dared to go, with Engot doing a fantastic job conveying his character’s lack of control—pitifully shouting and slamming his fists into the steering wheel.  Upon a second viewing, however, it’s the scene that comes after this one that really hits me hard.  Hazel and Augustus are having one last picnic on a hill as they watch children playing down below.  Hazel asks Augustus what he is thinking, and the audience gets this conversation:

Hazel: What are you thinking about?

Augustus: Oblivion. I know it's kid's stuff or whatever, but...I always thought I would be a hero. I always thought I'd have a grand story to tell. You know, something they would publish in all the papers, and...I mean, I was supposed to be special.

Hazel: You are special, Augustus.

Augustus: Yeah, I know. But...you know what I mean.

Hazel: I do know what you mean, I just don't agree with you. You know this obsession you have with being remembered?

Augustus: Don't get mad.

Hazel: I am mad. I'm mad because I think you're special. And is that not enough? You think that the only way to lead a meaningful life...is for everyone to remember you, for everyone to love you. Guess what, Gus. This is your life, okay? This is all you get. You get me, and you get your family, and you get this world, and that's it. And if that's not enough for you, then I'm sorry, but it's not nothing. Because I love you. And I'm gonna remember you.

I too yearn to leave an impact on the world—be remembered for something after I’m dead.  Like Augustus, though, I need to be grateful for what I have over what I desire.  My fiancée who I saw The Fault in Our Stars with nearly five years ago is now my beloved best friend and wife.  I have her and a family who loves me, and their love and company are most definitely far from nothing.  This single scene got me thinking about how lucky I am and how thankful I need to be for the amazing love I have, over yearning for more—for it may very well be all I get in this life, and that’s more than acceptable.  When a film like The Fault in Our Stars gets me thinking like that, to me, it’s a film deserving of praise.