The Perks of Being a Wallflower: Review

Dear Emma Watson,

Given my boyhood literary love affair with Hermione Granger, I understandably grew quite fond of you during the Harry Potter films.  But witnessing your latest performance in the Perks of Being a Wallflower was like being hooked up to an IV of Amortentia (that’s love potion, for you muggles out there), and I am straight stupefied by your charms.  I thought nothing could beat your wizardly ramblings on parceltongue and polyjuice but, as a former Penn State student myself, hearing you talk about sticky buns at the Diner got my oxytocin bumpin’!  So in short, congratulations on proving that your talents extend well beyond the walls of Hogwarts; we should probably grab a butterbeer some time.

Yours truly,

Matt Meier

Indeed, Emma Watson scintillates like the bright young star that she is in The Perks of Being a Wallflower.  And all fawning aside, I’d be utterly remiss to not commend the equally dexterous performances of her young co-stars, Logan Lerman and Ezra Miller.  Even Mae Whitman, whom you may remember as George Michael’s monotonous punch-line girlfriend Anne (read: Bland) from Arrested Development, delivers a sound performance as the pretentious and often oblivious supporting character Mary Elizabeth.  Rounded out by the support of veterans Paul Rudd, Melanie Lynskey, Dylan McDermott, Kate Walsh, and Joan Cusack, the cast certainly proves the film’s strongest asset. 

But alas, writer/director Stephen Chbosky’s adaptation of his own novel leaves little else to fawn over.  Though undoubtedly heartfelt in its thematic efforts, the Perks of Being a Wallflower wades through a shallow pool of anachronistic nostalgia and pedestrian plot points before ever reaching the emotional deep end it so earnestly seeks.

Above all else, the Perks of Being a Wallflower is a coming-of-age love story between Charlie (Lerman) and Sam (Watson) and, as the title suggests, is one primarily grounded within the emotional arc of “outcasts” finding companionship in one another—if you listen closely, you can almost hear Molly Ringwald wondering why she wasn’t offered a part while John Hughes rolls over and re-writes scenes in his grave.  Charlie (Lerman) enters his freshman year of high school friendless and filled with dread.  Luckily, an eccentric loner named Patrick (Miller) and his half-sister Sam (Watson), both seniors, quickly befriend Charlie and welcome him into their “island of misfit toys.”  Of course it doesn’t take long for Charlie to form a close bond and fall madly in love with Sam, who cannot reciprocate her own growing affections due to her pretentious art school boyfriend Craig (Reece Thompson).

“Why do nice people choose the wrong people to date?” Charlie asks Mr. Anderson (Rudd), his friendly English teacher who encourages Charlie’s advancement as a writer with extra voluntary readings and assignments.

“We accept the love we think we deserve,” Anderson responds in an exchange that is just as unironically platitudinous in its usage as is its second appearance as a payoff line later on.

As though Hughes fans don’t have enough to drool over already, the film is also set in a blue-collar town (Pittsburg) in the 1980s—well, sort of.  Chbosky actively draws attention to the film’s temporal setting in various scenes but acutely fails to maintain even the smallest sense of continuity in doing so.  When David Bowie’s “Heroes” (released in 1977) plays on the radio, the three wallflowers are explicitly unfamiliar with the track, yet they jump with joy when “Come On Eilleen” (1982) plays at a school dance and dance to “Low” by Cracker (1993) at a house party.  They also mention Nick Drake, The Shags, and the Smiths among favorite artists, listen to cassette tapes and vinyl, perform at local screenings of Rocky Horror Picture Show (originally released 1977 and replayed many years after), and wear clothes and drive cars from seemingly every era.

Distracting though they may be, these anachronisms derive from the very nature of the film as a story driven entirely by emotion.  There’s no denying that Perks of Being a Wallflower is a story very personally linked with Chbosky’s own youth, and he turned down numerous studio offers to option his book for others to adapt and direct.  And while Chbosky’s own personal investment in the story may have blinded him to some of his own shortcomings in adapting such a project, that same characteristic is also the film’s ultimately charm.  Much like watching the early works of John Hughes, you truly sense the unity of cast and crew in fulfilling on man’s vision and capturing the sentiments that dictated his growth and his perspective on the world.  Admittedly, there are others who could have perhaps better executed Chbosky’s story, but I cannot help but sympathize with Chbosky’s desire to share his personal vision with all its vulnerabilities wholly intact.  In an industry largely motivated by profit and broad appeal, sometimes knowing that one artist finally had the chance to tell his story exactly as he envisioned it is enough to leave the theater with a smile.