Review

Review Date: 28-September-03
Spoiler Rating: Medium
Juju Judgment: Juicy

The School of Rock (2003)

The studio behind "The School of Rock" clearly thinks it has a winner on its hands. Backed by glowing early reviews, Paramount ran sneak previews a week before the film's official release in the hopes of generating word-of-mouth excitement. While this move has a good chance of paying off, I wonder why they didn't wait until the holiday season. "The School of Rock" is the quintessential Christmas movie: ideal for kids and adults, it successfully preaches the gospel of finding yourself and following your dream, while asking the viewer to fall in love with an elfin hero and to believe in the possibility of the preposterous. But never mind that it was 90 degrees when I left the theater; whatever the season, this baby's got soul.

I might as well start by extolling the movie's leading man, because without him "The School of Rock" could not exist. Singer/musician/actor/wild man Jack Black takes hold of the role of down-and-out guitar player Dewey Finn and runs with it like a jackrabbit on speed. Blessed (?) with the manic energy of Robin Williams or Jim Carrey, Black emerges here as a dynamo of singularly intoxicating allure because he channels his energy into a defined and understandable obsession: music. Booted from his band just weeks before a big rock contest, and only one step away from the skids, Dewey illicitly impersonates a substitute teacher to make a buck "babysitting" 10-year-olds at a posh prep school. His complete lack of interest in this occupation gives way to zealous glee (his only two gears, it appears) when he discovers that the class contains a number of gifted musicians. Black is utterly, effortlessly convincing as he interacts with the kids and imparts the lessons that lie at the heart of rock 'n' roll, including the joy of shedding inhibitions and the thrill of transcendent devotion. (He's also funny as hell.) With the school's prim headmistress (Joan Cusack) looking over their shoulders and the fabric of Dewey's lie threatening to ravel at any moment, this motley crew has just a few weeks to make the grade and just one shot to prove that they can kick ass with the big boys. Even if the ending weren't dictated by the big-hearted feel of the film, it would be a poor tale indeed in which someone with as much fire, gusto, and off-kilter charisma as Black would fail to have his wish come true.

Fire, gusto, and charisma --- this is really what "The School of Rock" is all about, or at least what sets it apart from other "feel-good" films. Up-and-coming screenwriter Mike White (who also co-stars as Dewey's roommate/friend) wrings a strong shot of fun out of a largely predictable story, and America's eulogizer of the slacker, director Richard Linklater, gives it just the right tone of pop culture sagacity. The talented kids (cute as buttons, naturally) represent the requisite cross-section of ethnic, social, and personality types, and a few receive enough attention to generate their own subplots aimed at younger members of the audience. (Or anyone who ever felt fat, uncool, or overly restricted by their parents.) But all these efforts would be wasted were it not for Black's unscripted, reverent enthusiasm for rock 'n' roll. This may sound hokey, but the guy is genuinely inspiring. When he teaches one boy how to make faces like a rocker should (a scene closely akin to the one in "Whale Rider" where the chieftain shows young warriors how to strike terror into the hearts of their enemies), you feel the power of his passion. When his great pools of eyes light up at the growing ability of his disciples, you wish you were among his flock. And when he gets out on the stage and gives it all he's got, you want to break out the lighters and cheer.

The little boy (6?) in front of me during the show squirmed quite a bit; "The School of Rock" may not click with elementary schoolers, but anyone with two digits to their age ought to find it a rousing and raucous charmer. Attend the School of Rock, my friends; you'll be the better for it.

Copyright © 2003 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.