I must’ve passed by The Fault in Our Stars a dozen times—wandering around Đinh Lễ or circling the shelves at Quỳnh Mai bookstore in Sài Gòn—picking it up, then putting it back down. The cover’s gorgeous. The summary sounds beautiful too: a love story about two teens with cancer, making their final days unforgettable and joyful. But I skipped it. Back then, I was haunted by death, by cancer, by how short my time on this earth felt, stuck pleasing people with things I didn’t even like. My head was crammed with thoughts I couldn’t shake loose to make room for a novel that seemed packed with life lessons.
That is, until my blog hit follower number 69. Their first post I read was about The Fault in Our Stars. Turns out, they’d translated it online on Wattpad. Why? After pointing out errors to Nhà Xuất Bản Trẻ over and over with no fixes, they rolled up their sleeves and did it themselves. I got hooked on their translation notes, so I dove in. Thing is, I’m lazy with books—halfway through, I just downloaded the movie instead.
It’s a stunning film.
Hazel and Gus meet at a support group, a place where people share the struggles of cancer treatment “in the heart of Jesus.” I love how Gus stares at Hazel. He’s got this killer smile and deep blue eyes like the sea. He says his biggest fear after dying is being forgotten. He wants to be someone big—like a world-saver—leaving a mark people can’t ignore. His house is littered with basketball trophies and cool life quotes like, “If you want to see a rainbow, you’ve got to put up with the rain.”
Hazel, though, meets Gus while she’s drowning in depression. Her days are: wake up when it’s time, watch reality TV, eat just to say she did, do the bare minimum to prove to her parents she’s still breathing, still aware, waiting for her set end date. “You can’t know which beautiful day will be your last beautiful day. You just know it’s another beautiful day.”
The movie’s big theme is, “That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.” I don’t know how to translate it better—maybe “It’s about pain. And it needs to be felt.” But the film isn’t about pain. It’s about love. It’s funny, lively, stuffed with great moments, and even its sadness is beautiful, rich with aftertaste.
Gus swoops in, pulling Hazel from her gloom, letting her feel what it’s like to crush on a guy—waiting by the phone, late-night talks, a date tasting “the stars.” “Do you know what Dom Perignon said when he discovered champagne? He called his disciples over and said, ‘Come quick, I’m tasting the stars.’” It’s a romantic Amsterdam night, lights twinkling like constellations.
Hazel’s obsessed with finishing an incomplete novel, An Imperial Affliction, about a girl named Alice. Does she beat cancer? Where’d the Dutch Tulip Man go? So many questions. They head to Holland to track down the author for answers, only to find a drunk, ranting mess of a writer. The answers stay up in the air, just like life’s ending—hanging there, unknown.
I love so much about this movie. It reminds me of love stuff—those all-night phone calls, the buzz of waiting for a guy’s text, romantic or cheesy dates, and confessions.
And simply put, watching it, I found love. Forget all the life philosophies—living each day to the fullest, being remembered by millions, admired by millions. Hazel just needed one person to love her deeply. “She might not be widely known, but she was deeply loved.” By someone who gave her his whole heart, even as cancer ate him away.