Stream It Or Skip It: ‘All the Bright Places’ on Netflix, a Teen-Lit Weepie That Puts Elle Fanning Through the Wringer

All the Bright Places is a YA novel-turned-Netflix movie starring Dakota Fanning and Justice Smith as high schoolers whose lips and whatnot are on a collision course that’s as inevitable as the sunrise — and the golden hour that renders such mashings portraits of loveliness. But this rom isn’t a com; novelist and co-screenwriter Jennifer Niven was praised for telling a story that addresses teen mental illness with a necessary delicate touch. Like many books and films of its ilk, All the Bright Places is engineered to be a tearjerker, so the question here isn’t whether it makes you cry — that’s inevitable for us non-robots — but makes you mad for making you cry.

ALL THE BRIGHT PLACES: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Theodore Finch (Smith) is out for a run in the dim dawn light when he sees a girl standing precariously on a bridge rail: That’s how he meets Violet (Fanning). They recognize each other from school. He’s the class “freak” who’s stuck attending mandatory meetings with the counselor (Keegan-Michael Key) for ditching school days at a time. She’s the sympathy case, getting a pass on school projects because her older sister died in a car wreck beneath that very bridge; she’s still understandably upset, many months later.

Perhaps it goes without saying that Violet doesn’t jump off the bridge, even though she appears as if she might. Finch teeters up there with her for a moment or two, and they come down together. In class the next day, Violet drops her books in front of class and everyone laughs, so Finch flamboyantly topples his desk, eating up some of the negative attention. He’s a sweet guy. He’s also a classic-case smokescreen personality using such rococo social flourishes to cover up his true self, which is too intricately knotted with his deep pain to be allowed to see the light of day. Their new class assignment is to write about their “wanderings,” and of course the teacher with the stubby tie requires it to be a two-person project, upsetting Violet’s self-imposed brooding solitude. Finch volunteers to pair with her, and she resists, but eventually gives in, for there certainly are many far less charming classmates she could be stuck with, and this isn’t the type of movie that resists the magnetic tug of adolescent hormones.

So Finch and Violet’s “wanderings” are essentially a series of cute dates — to Indiana’s very boring highest geographical point, to a farmer’s homemade mini-roller coaster, etc., you know, the things in the title of the movie. Her parents (Luke Wilson and Nicole Forester) are happy to see her socializing again, and overcoming her fear of riding in cars — and she’s smiling again, which is huge. Huge! Finch is infectiously lovable in an offbeat but sincere way, and Violet trusts him, sharing some of her fears and sorrows. But what’s with Finch and his bad reputation? He goes home to a loving older sister (Alexandra Shipp), absentee mother and a room decorated with hundreds of post-it notes with inspirational phrases and quotes on them. Sometimes he disappears for a day or three and doesn’t answer texts, but eventually turns up again, refusing to explain. What does he do? Where does he go? Will he just not come back one of these times? Does the budding love between fragile Violet and enigmatic Finch have the tensile strength to endure their individual dysfunctions?

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: The Fault in Our Stars is also a weepie, and also a YA adaptation, and also put a young actress of impressive skill — Shailene Woodley — in the lead, all the better to wave the red cape in front of the charging bull of your tears.

Performance Worth Watching: Typically superlative as Fanning is (although she’s even stronger in The Neon Demon and 20th Century Women), Smith bears the brunt of the film’s dramatic weight. It hinges on his charisma, and he proves to be more than capable of playing a character who’s a potentially volatile blend of roughness and magnetism. He wisely avoids tropes and stereotypical behavior, leaning into Finch’s idiosyncrasies.

Memorable Dialogue: “It’s nice to have a friend again,” Violet says to Finch. “Don’t let that go to your head.”

Sex and Skin: Violet and Finch strip to their undies for a dip in the ol’ swimming hole; some PG-13 implied whoa-nellies.

Our Take: It’s difficult to resist Finch, especially when he nicknames his new special friend “Ultraviolet.” It’s endearing, and just KEWWWT enough without being smarmy. Your strongest defenses may melt like Skittles in a summer swelter. Fanning and Smith’s performances are earnest and convincing, even when Niven and Liz Hannah’s screenplay gives them Chitty Chitty Bang Bang dialogue. I understand that these young people have aged quickly due to their circumstances, but they frequently behave with adultlike sophistication when they probably should be lost in the morass of their emotions. You know, like actual teenagers. I didn’t always buy it, but I went with it anyway.

Of course, there’s the question of our potential anger. I don’t have a clean answer for you. Despite the film’s flaws, only the most hardened and cynical crank won’t feel for its protagonists, especially given Fanning’s ability to quietly and wordlessly project deep heartache, and Smith’s ability to robustly navigate the full spectrum between extrovert/introvert extremes. These characters deserve our empathy, and your eyes will moisten, and your cryfacedness depends wholly upon your vulnerability to YA machinations. But I was angry at the screenplay gods for making these endearing young characters suffer so much. Also for following through with a ramshackle The School Project Must Go On plot, which leads to an awful final sequence that’s the screenplay equivalent of an inspirational greeting card from the Hobby Lobby clearance aisle — and that you wish someone as talented as Fanning didn’t have to execute.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Look past that saccharine, tidy ending, and All the Bright Places is a warm, thoughtful portrait of teen trauma and grief.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Stream All the Bright Places on Netflix