After having never read the original print version of “The Perks of Being a Wallflower,” I walked into the theater with zero background, presumptions or expectations. Apparently the book has been in print since 1999, but I’d only ever heard it mentioned in casual conversation, and I’d never thought to pick up a copy of it myself until I walked out of the theater after the movie feeling nothing short of infinite.
My only major criticism of the film was that it ended too soon, even if it was almost two hours long. The film, as most readers of the book will probably tell you, was an accurate and moving adaption of the story itself. The author of the original story, Stephen Chbosky, was also the director and screenwriter of the film, making it fairly impossible for the author’s vision not to come through on the big screen. Although I saw the film with virtually no initial knowledge of the storyline, I knew from hearing all the hype that it was going to be a love story. Rather than being the type of cliché romantic comedy, however, I found that the film was actually an awe-inspiring depiction of what adolescent emotions – and puberty – do to us in high school. After reading the book as soon as I saw the movie, I found that – for once – I was glad that I had seen the movie before reading the book. Seeing the film added beauty and poignancy to many deeply affecting scenes that were 200 times better after seeing what they looked like in real time.
Charlie, our awkward and adorable protagonist, played by Logan Lerman, is a lonely, soft-spoken kid who has recently lost his best friend Michael to an unexpected suicide, and on his first day of ninth grade, he is already counting the days until graduation while trying to pretend that every day is his last day of school. He’s mercilessly picked on and put down, but what really preserves his sanity, initially, is a close bond he forms with his English teacher, Mr. Anderson. Anderson gives Charlie additional books to read that he does not give the rest of the class, and after each one, Charlie writes some sort of essay about the book. Anderson fosters his talents and appreciates his intelligence, which is essential in his journey toward self-assurance and self-acceptance.
Eventually, Charlie meets Patrick and Sam, the two people who will ultimately change his life forever. Patrick, played by Ezra Miller, is an outspoken, jovial and generally obnoxious homosexual who takes Charlie under his wing and helps him to build up his confidence. Sam, played by Emma Watson, is the object of Charlie’s fascination, angst and unconditional love. He pines for her throughout the entire film, though he is constantly unrewarded by her involvement with other boys.
Charlie struggles with the depth of his social perception and sensitivity, the way that he can sense pain in others and feel what they feel to a point where it affects him very negatively. He witnesses an abusive relationship between his sister and her boyfriend, just as he witnessed his beloved Aunt Helen go from bad to worse men. He longs for Sam to find a boy who will treat her as she deserves to be treated, and for Patrick to also find peace and functionality in a relationship after being ignored and snubbed by a lover. Charlie’s insights into these relationships culminate into the much-celebrated line that audience members have heard in trailers and promotional media alike: “We accept the love we think we deserve.”
And it’s so true.
Overall, I can’t say that if I had read the book on its own, I would have enjoyed it nearly as much as I did after I watched the film. After seeing it, I was excited to read the book because I knew that there were details in the print version that weren’t included in the movie. I was turning pages at incredible speeds, wondering what was going to happen next and what I was going to see in the book that I hadn’t seen on the screen. Even though the reading can become mundane, especially since Charlie’s evaluations and descriptions of people and events are sometimes vague and colorless, his occasional reflections on the things he sees are thought-provoking and vivid, and even in the most mundane events, there might be a message between the lines that is deeply affecting.
Charlie proves, in both the book and the film, that sometimes adolescence is as complicated as abuse, love and death, and sometimes, it’s as simple as having a good laugh, dancing around in your underwear and getting ill-timed cravings for milkshakes. It’s all beautifully executed with a profound attention to detail – or lack thereof – and whether you’re a fan of the book or not (or even if you’ve never read a page of it in your life), please see this film. It will give you the visual and audial love you deserve.