In 1999, Stephen Chbosky wrote the book that could well be the new Catcher in the Rye. Twelve years later, he directed the celluloid version. The outcome is a powerful film that is, in many ways, reminiscent of the 1951 classic, but goes beyond. It is striking in the originality of its clever lines, and enduring, because it’s a story that allows us to look back on our agonised teenage selves. How often we want to reach back, when we see mementos of those years, and tell ourselves that it’s going to be all right, that we’re going to be the people we are, with the successes we’ve seen... How often, when we melt into tears, do we go back to those selves, stored away in diaries and prayers and memories...
There’s nothing quite like the pathos of teenage. All of us spend those years coming to terms with our sexuality, and gauging our appearance, our intelligence, our popularity. And nothing is quite as frightening at the time as being uprooted and planted in a new environment, in which we must go out and make friends, even as our instinct is to shrink into ourselves.
We’ve been Charlie (Logan Lerman), hesitant to raise his hand when he knows the answers, because he’s afraid he’ll be mocked as the teacher’s pet. We’ve been Charlie, contemplating the incongruity of a girl who bites out, “Faggot!” having been a Straight-A student since kindergarten. We’ve been Charlie, dating the person who asks us out, even when we like someone else. We’ve been Charlie, writing confessional accounts to an imaginary reader. We’ve been Charlie, wondering why people settle for so much less than they deserve.
Every character in this story skirts the stereotype. The boy who makes mixed tapes isn’t incapable of slapping his girlfriend. The girl who avoids her brother at lunch understands when he needs help. The girl who goes Goth is afraid of being caught with her boyfriend when her parents come home early. The jock who’s afraid to be himself thanks someone for stepping up. The girl with the romantic bent remembers her first kiss - she was eleven, his name was Robert, he used to come over all the time, and he was her dad’s boss.
The film turns out to be far more layered, when a sudden trigger leads to a character’s breakdown, and a revelation that turns the narrative on its head. Irony is the film’s strong point. Even as David Bowie’s Heroes plays repeatedly, a boy wonders, “Why can’t we save anyone?”
The subtlety of the story is complemented by some brilliant acting, especially from Logan Lerman, who internalises his character so completely that we know something is terribly wrong from one tiny gesture. Dylan McDermott, even in a small role, shows his class as an actor, bringing out the layers to his character in a single heart-warming scene with his son.
The Verdict: With unobtrusive direction, and masterful acting, The Perks of Being a Wallflower tells a story we can relate to, laugh with, and cry for.