The Perks of Being a Wallflower – film adaptation

I’m not sure it’s ever been done before. A film where I wish to punch every single speaking character in the whole piece. Or at the very least watch them fail dismally and have their smug illusions shattered.

When I read the book in 2002 or 2003, I hated it. So it was no surprise that I was going to dislike this adaptation, coming in the wake of hipsters becoming a ‘thing’. But I expected to find it enjoyably bad, with its cute cast members trying really, really hard and coming over as adorably useless. In fact, their strong performances were the best thing here – but that only meant the sheer horror of the dialogue and plot came through.

I’m just going to make a list of things that got under my skin. First, the use of mental issues as a tacked-on, glamorous substitute for actual character depth or likeability. Second, the tokenism in the portrayal of the openly gay character, who is an insufferable and insulting caricature. Third, the way a film supposedly about being a calm observer has at a key moment violence solving problems without the obvious US high school consequences. Fourth, the way none of the kids recognised one of Bowie’s most well-known songs, and the prevalence of that most false of posers Morrisey. Fifth, the presentation of the most obvious, godawful books as worthy literature someone of superior taste would enjoy – notably On the Road and Catcher in the Rye. Sixth, making light of serious eating disorders to show edginess. Seventh, also using child abuse, death in the family and homosexuality as further substitutes for character development, and even suggesting them to be glamorous for they make for an appealing fucked-up character. Eighth, drugs making people likeable and silly, and the oh-so-daring juxtaposition of Holy Communion and dropping a tab. Ninth, Emma Watson’s dodgy accent. Tenth, the endless, endless smugness – we’re so alternative; we’re so individualistic even though we do all these clichéd things; we’re going to top universities because we’re effortlessly smart; we’re into all this stuff you’ve probably never heard of even though it all feeds into a stereotype.

Even the things I liked in the book are gone. I recall the observations on Mary Elizabeth as wry, subtle and cutting. Here she is an absurd comedy figure that looks like an apologist inclusion for the people sickened by the left-wing fantasies. Gone was the scene where Charlie actually gets called on how his submissive behaviour is harming those around him who are in vulnerable situations. And of course there can be no attempts at literary pastiche.

I remember the slight shock to the system when I joined bands with this sort of person in it, and realized that I was deluded to think myself left-wing as I was actually only moderately left of centre. And I remember how when it came down to it, these people didn’t lead charmed lives where people notice their awesome qualities and rely on them in their troubled times – they were mostly lonely, unhappy souls who craved a dramatic life and never got it. So they complained, and sought attention, and purposely got into abusive relationships. Or wrote about it. And one in a billion of them managed to get published and even asked to direct film adaptations. Why oh why this resonates with anyone and gets critically acclaimed I cannot comprehend.