School of Rock
School of Rock was released during my first semester of my graduate program in education; I saw it with my friend and fellow graduate student Dan. Back then, we were idealistic about teaching; we were going to revolutionize the world with our innovative ideas in the classroom. I know I’m making a valiant attempt at doing so through writing and teaching; while we’ve lost touch, Dan teaches English at a high school in Rochester, NY, and I have no doubt he’s doing the same.
So this was the perfect film for both of us. As an idealistic teaching candidate, obsessive rock music fan, and super-amateur guitar player, this Jack Black vehicle hit me on those three levels. And of course, I bought the DVD, which I watch about once a year on average. It’s one of my Top 10 films.
But since I’ve learned how to spot pro- and anti-single message in films, School of Rock stays in my top ten for another reason: its subtle advocacy for happy singlehood (or at least its dismissiveness of the romantic subplot).
The plot: Dewey Finn, a struggling musician, is in a rough spot after being kicked out of his band. To be fair, his bandmates offer a reasonable explanation: he’s a talented musician, but his stage histrionics, like unwarranted stage diving and elongated solos, aren’t what the band’s about. Desperate for money, he picks up a phone call for his milquetoast roommate, Ned, a substitute teacher. The call’s from an exclusive private school wanting Ned to sub there. Like any good roommate, Dewey pretends to be Ned, dons a bowtie, and steps into the classroom.
Initially, he wants to let the kids have recess all day while he slumbers behind the desk, any kid’s dream. But when he happens to witness their talents in a music class, he sets out to have the kids form a rock band and enter a local Battle of the Bands competition so he can cash in on the prize money.
This description could sound creepy, but director Richard Linklater (Dazed and Confused, Everybody Wants Some) keeps the tone light. And Dewey finds he has talent as a teacher. Without any pedagogical theory or training under his belt, he has an instinctual ability to get the kids to learn through the manicness of his personality and his passion for (and encyclopedic knowledge of) rock music.
Now here’s the pro-single twist (two of them actually). Joan Cusack plays the school’s uptight but devoted principal, who’s befuddled at Dewey’s style of teaching but indicates “there’s something about you that relaxes me.” Right away, we think this is going into romantic subplot territory, but no. They appear to form a friendship, or at least a mutual understanding. In a 1980s or 90s romcom, they’d hook up at the end, but Linklater understands that these two are not in any way compatible, so their relationship stays professional until the end. And while Black matures in his character arc, it’s not because of any romantic inkling. His relationship with the kids he teaches helps him blossom, and at the end, he’s formed his own “school of rock,” where he teaches the kids rock music in an after-school setting. A much appropriate ending than “he gets the girl, he gets to stay at the school.” His passion is music, and as he says “Rock and roll is not about scoring chicks. It’s about sticking it to the man.” And in a way, the film “sticks to the man,” the man being the tropes of the romance.
The second comes from Ned. He’s in a relationship with a controlling narcissist, Patty (well-played by the anti-marriage Sarah Silverman). At the end, when Patty asks him “When you will ever stand up for yourself?” he responds by walking out on her and going to see the kids perform in the Battle of the Bands. By movie’s end, he’s teaching with Dewey at the school, and Patty is nowhere to be found.
When I saw the musical on Broadway, I was disheartened to see that Dewey and the principal had coupled up at the end, and Patty was suddenly turned on by Ned’s machismo confidence. I guess the producers thought the alternate ending would be more palatable for a Broadway audience?
That being said, the film is worth the watch for many, many reasons, including its pro-single message. Save your money on the musical; rent (or buy) the film instead!
So this was the perfect film for both of us. As an idealistic teaching candidate, obsessive rock music fan, and super-amateur guitar player, this Jack Black vehicle hit me on those three levels. And of course, I bought the DVD, which I watch about once a year on average. It’s one of my Top 10 films.
But since I’ve learned how to spot pro- and anti-single message in films, School of Rock stays in my top ten for another reason: its subtle advocacy for happy singlehood (or at least its dismissiveness of the romantic subplot).
The plot: Dewey Finn, a struggling musician, is in a rough spot after being kicked out of his band. To be fair, his bandmates offer a reasonable explanation: he’s a talented musician, but his stage histrionics, like unwarranted stage diving and elongated solos, aren’t what the band’s about. Desperate for money, he picks up a phone call for his milquetoast roommate, Ned, a substitute teacher. The call’s from an exclusive private school wanting Ned to sub there. Like any good roommate, Dewey pretends to be Ned, dons a bowtie, and steps into the classroom.
Initially, he wants to let the kids have recess all day while he slumbers behind the desk, any kid’s dream. But when he happens to witness their talents in a music class, he sets out to have the kids form a rock band and enter a local Battle of the Bands competition so he can cash in on the prize money.
This description could sound creepy, but director Richard Linklater (Dazed and Confused, Everybody Wants Some) keeps the tone light. And Dewey finds he has talent as a teacher. Without any pedagogical theory or training under his belt, he has an instinctual ability to get the kids to learn through the manicness of his personality and his passion for (and encyclopedic knowledge of) rock music.
Now here’s the pro-single twist (two of them actually). Joan Cusack plays the school’s uptight but devoted principal, who’s befuddled at Dewey’s style of teaching but indicates “there’s something about you that relaxes me.” Right away, we think this is going into romantic subplot territory, but no. They appear to form a friendship, or at least a mutual understanding. In a 1980s or 90s romcom, they’d hook up at the end, but Linklater understands that these two are not in any way compatible, so their relationship stays professional until the end. And while Black matures in his character arc, it’s not because of any romantic inkling. His relationship with the kids he teaches helps him blossom, and at the end, he’s formed his own “school of rock,” where he teaches the kids rock music in an after-school setting. A much appropriate ending than “he gets the girl, he gets to stay at the school.” His passion is music, and as he says “Rock and roll is not about scoring chicks. It’s about sticking it to the man.” And in a way, the film “sticks to the man,” the man being the tropes of the romance.
The second comes from Ned. He’s in a relationship with a controlling narcissist, Patty (well-played by the anti-marriage Sarah Silverman). At the end, when Patty asks him “When you will ever stand up for yourself?” he responds by walking out on her and going to see the kids perform in the Battle of the Bands. By movie’s end, he’s teaching with Dewey at the school, and Patty is nowhere to be found.
When I saw the musical on Broadway, I was disheartened to see that Dewey and the principal had coupled up at the end, and Patty was suddenly turned on by Ned’s machismo confidence. I guess the producers thought the alternate ending would be more palatable for a Broadway audience?
That being said, the film is worth the watch for many, many reasons, including its pro-single message. Save your money on the musical; rent (or buy) the film instead!
