We lost Finch’s first attempt on his own life, which would have made for a dramatic, heart-racing scene in which he runs to a hospital after overdosing on sleeping pills, demanding his stomach to be pumped. We lost Violet’s connection with her sister symbolised in the online magazine they used to write, bringing a greater sense of individuality and personality to Violet than the girl-who-lost-her-sister stereotype she seems conform to for most of the movie. However, I think too much was lost in the harsh cutting of the plot to fit for the Netflix adaptation: we lost the familial tension between Finch’s mother and Violet’s parents so aptly and vehemently penned. The emotion between them felt raw and alive, and the background of Indiana (though mostly filmed in Ohio) enlivened their physical journey together with hues of warm orange and picturesque countryside that worked the beauty suggested within the novel into the film fluidly. He had all the chaotic energy conjured in the novel, like a bomb waiting to explode, perfectly juxtaposed by the reserved presence of Violet played by wide-eyed Elle Fanning. Nonetheless, Justice Smith’s portrayal of Finch may have differed from the book in race (Niven frequently comments on his stark paleness in the novel) and size (Finch from the book stands out for his height of 6’4), however Niven herself chose Smith and I think she did so shrewdly. This was exchanged for the silence of a dead road in the movie.
The fault in our stars movie vs book similarities movie#
I began the movie confused and disappointed, as I found the opening scene in the novel woven with different dynamics of teenage life, paranoia, expectations and tensions all embodied in the watching, opinionated eye of the student body. This, in a way, carried on through the movie: understandably, due to time constraints, a considerable portion of the plot and character backstories were cut the movie also changed the first scene from a meeting at the bell-tower in school to the bridge where Violet’s sister died. This is particularly evident during Finch’s last adventure before he commits suicide – which, interestingly, was omitted from the movie – in the cryptic clues he sends Violet: ‘I am on the highest branch.’ ‘we are written in paint.’ ‘I believe in signs.’ I’m not sure if my status as an English literature student resulted in a meticulous over-analysing, however the content felt weak and the imagery seemed as if it were trying-too-hard to hold any sort of shape. However, some of the descriptions, in their effort to be blunt and hard-hitting, felt vapid and flat. I was left wanting more, despite reading it in one night, which is quite the testimony to how effortlessly Niven’s prose reads. For me, though, the book didn’t quite reach every empty space it was looking to fill. This YA novel is renowned for the abundance of rave reviews that follow it endlessly online, receiving a very admirable 4.37 on Goodreads from a whopping 257,000 ratings (and counting). It grapples with strong themes of mental health, including domestic abuse, bipolar disorder, grief and suicide, and depicts the blossoming of an unorthodox relationship between two high-school students who share similar struggles for very different reasons. All the Bright Places is a YA romance novel written in 2015 that took the market by storm to deem it the new ‘The Fault in Our Stars’, as The New York Times writer Andrew Smith puts it, pretty much hits the nail on the head. The cover page, too, may be of familiarity if you have just so happened to walk into a Waterstones within the past year or two. I’m sure you’ll recognise the title of this book from somewhere, even if you just can’t quite put your finger on it.