I had no interest in The Red Band Society or The Fault in Our Stars, but because a few people praised the latter, and I am now aware of Shailene Woodley’s existence, I ignored my initial instincts and decided to watch it. The Fault in Our Stars was not for me despite the universal and timeless themes of confronting one’s mortality, love, disillusionment and loss. Even though The Fault in Our Stars tries extremely hard to distinguish itself as a movie that looks at cancer irreverently, to truly look at cancer irreverently, I’ll need to make a movie where a person forces oneself to work despite going through chemo or face the threat of eviction with no safety net then one day dying alone confronted by the reality that one will not look as good as one would want, but will be found lying in one’s own excrement and wondering who will find you, followed by a rush to empty the apartment by relatives if the deceased is lucky as one’s treasured items get discarded to Goodwill. THAT is my irreverent cancer movie, and if you want it, you have to pay me. The Fault in Our Stars is Hollywood irreverent with beautiful teens languishing comfortably and sardonically about their tragedy as people clamor around them to meet their every need. My favorite moments were when Willem Dafoe appeared, and I would have preferred to stay with him. The Fault in Our Stars isn’t awful, but it can stop patting itself on the back for being so brave.