The movie works hard to make you cry, but its gradual manipulation is too lighthearted to justify much contempt. This rather obvious device unfolds with a fair amount of predictability, but “The Fault in Our Stars” constantly resists overdramatizing the mounting sadness that eventually overtakes the picture. No surprise, then, that the solace the dying woman seeks comes from the true love she consummates over the course of her travels. With Augustus and Hazel’s parents’ help, she eventually makes the trip and discovers the reclusive scribe (Willem Dafoe) in a disgruntled, inebriated state. The ensuing plot is a relatively straightforward process of soul-searching that finds Hazel yearning for a trip to Amsterdam in order to meet the author of a novel she admires. Augustus, who lost a foot to cancer-related surgery, naturally sees past Hazel’s predicament and falls for her, while her conflicted parents (Laura Dern and Sam Trammell) watch from a curious distance. Hazel, who meets the suave Augustus Waters (Elgort) at a cancer support group and quickly falls prey to his advances, often appears in closeup-drawing attention to the contrast between her gentle look and the breathing tube stretched beneath her nose, which attaches her to an oxygen tank to sustain her failing lungs. Even the cheesier scenes are easy on the eyes Richardson never pushes the visuals to brightly-lit soap opera extremes, and neither does Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Shot by “Beasts of the Southern Wild” cinematographer Ben Richardson, “The Fault in Our Stars” casts the world of Woodley’s character, Hazel Grace Lancaster, with a delicacy that borders on rawness.
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