Much more than you might expect

Rating: 9/10 (23 December 2012)

This year's undoubtedly greatest and most noteworthy "teen movie", Stephen Chbosky's The Perks of Being a Wallflower, is a terrific example of the triumph of pure, uncompromised artistic integrity and fearless exploration of dark, deep, unconventional, and not necessarily marketable themes and characters. It's only resemblance to the typical slothful cash cows that are fed to bored adolescents through the Hollywood production line is the timing and screen time allocation of the usual exposition, positive change in circumstances, complication, and transitional pathos leading to a more upbeat resolution. Here, every single rung of the narrative ladder is laden with solid, challenging, meaningful material that remains sturdy during each tonal shift between comedic and tragic.
Taking total control of an adaptation of his own book as both screenwriter and director, Chbosky very maturely probes both the social dynamics of the Wallflowers, a group of close high school friends whose interests lie across the broad range of areas other than football, supermodels and pop music, and the incredibly painful life of it's incredibly likable, oddball protagonist, Charlie (Logan Lerman). The Indie, eccentric wallflower gang, the real life equivalent of the Hollywood "nerds", who more of us are or have been a part of than one might expected are depicted with a very endearing realism that celebrates their alternative coolness.
The two members who are most featured, Patrick (Ezra Miller) and Sam (Emma Watson), proudly parade into Charlie's initially lonely life as a battered, frightened, intensely introverted, humbly intelligent freshman who expresses himself in letters to a friend who is non-existent and featureless, but feels he ought to have. They touchingly take them under his wing exerting an air of confident weirdness, despite their own deep- seated insecurities that might not be as troubling as Charlie's very unsettling issues with insanity, but present just as many problems. Chbosky and Lerman make Charlie, the sweetest, kindest, most sensitive and convincing shy underdog ever to open a film with snarky complaints about one's high school days, and because of Chbosky's very mature approach to crafting this story, his maddening torment from the many guilt-ridden tragedies of his past are instantly understood, and only endear us more to him. The same goes for Patrick, who is quickly revealed to be a closet homosexual desperately trying to quench his thirst in a half-hearted affair with a two-faced jock (budding heartthrob Johnny Simmons) who fears his father's homophobic rage, but still derives primal pleasure from their secret sessions.
Despite initially seeming incredibly self-confident with his effortless witticisms and relaxed banter with friends and Sam, his new step-sister, Patrick is soon revealed to be as internally unsteady as Charlie is internally intelligent. Charlie purposely quietens his impressive intellect at school in fear of some surprisingly realistic bullies, so his savvy and pleasingly unsentimental English teacher, Mr Anderson (Paul Rudd), discreetly slips him a string of extra novels to satisfy his voracious literary appetite.
This student-teacher relationship and all other potentially cloying aspects of the story are handled with much more subtlety and restraint than I'm sure many audience members will be respecting. Make no mistake, this is a quirky piece, but certainly not cute and "heartwarming" in the usual. It doesn't try to charm you with sickly sweet sentiment that is supposed to "grow on you." Instead, it's strategy is to bombard its audience with themes and events that are crippling harsh and confronting, but must be faced as a fact of life, and then allows us some relief by showing the lighter sides of these characters' lives, as well as the majestic beauty of the darkness residing in them.
I do fear that, perhaps, its publicity will deter an audience that will truly appreciate it. Many of those who seek it out are likely to be after an upbeat Indie teenage comedy like Jason Reitman's Juno (2007) and the surprise of a decidedly downbeat drama may not necessarily be well-received. During an intelligently-crafted scene between Charlie and Sam where the subject of love – that is, love in the real world, not in the minds of Hollywood producers – is delicately discussed as the two of them are currently locked separately in uncomfortable, third-rate romantic relationships, Charlie repeats a piece of resounding wisdom he has learned from Mr Andrews: "sometimes we accept for the love we think we deserve." It is an ingenious quote that relates to the plights of so many characters, yet, near the time it was uttered, the girl sitting next to me in the theatre muttered, "Just f--king kiss already!" I certainly hope those slightly saccharine posters aren't the product of the producers' lack of commercial confidence in this quality film, and that they haven't accepted the shallow of love of immature people like the person who was sitting beside me, instead of the full appreciation of art-house audiences.
I also hope that the previous work of its three stars, whose names have been generously given marquee acknowledgement, will not create too many misgivings or preconceptions, for all of them produce characterisations that are markedly different from those they may have been previously affiliated with. Emma Watson's new haircut, impressive American accent and much more mature manner successfully remove the Sam from Hermione Granger. Ezra Miller is just as intensely engaging here as he was in We Need to Talk About Kevin, but certainly not psychopathic and demonic. Most of all, Logan Lerman is much more raw, affecting and unassuming than his likable but very typical turn as Percy Jackson in 2010. The rest of the cast, most prominently Dylan McDermott and Kate Walsh as Charlie's parents, Nina Dobrev as his sister and Mae Whitman as the sweet but insufferable girlfriend he's too nice to get rid of.
Believe me when I say that this a must-see for anyone Charlie's age (15) or older.