Rock and Roll Middle School

Substitute teachers are a dangerous breed: they emerge out of thin air to usurp the power of a trusted and respected authority figure, and replace the militaristically established order of the elementary school classroom with their own whims and caprices. Only if you're really lucky, however, do they turn your class into a kick-ass rock band.

Such is the luck of the fifth-graders in Richard Linklater's The School of Rock who unwittingly accept would-be rock star Dewey Finn (Jack Black) as their long-term sub. Penned by Mike White (Chuck and Buck, The Good Girl), The School of Rock uses this rather absurd scenario as a vehicle for Jack Black's anarchic slacker persona; like a rock'n'roll version of Robin Williams' upstart professor in Dead Poets' Society, he frees his students from their school's conservative mindset and teaches them how to unleash their inner rock gods.

Dewey (who might as well be called Jack Black, in the same way every Woody Allen character should be called Woody Allen) faces an approaching rent deadline after being fired from his longtime gig as a rock guitarist, and in desperation, passes himself off as his substitute teacher best friend to make some quick cash. Awakened to the musical talents of his students during a school orchestra class, Dewey comes up with the idea of turning them into a band and entering them in the local battle of the bands, which, if he wins, will regain him not only his lost rock credibility but also a tidy sum of prize money.

His scheme, of course, is not without its difficulties: Dewey must struggle to maintain his appearance as a mild-mannered teacher, elude the hard-assed and suspecting principal (Joan Cusack), and fight against the anal-retentive tendencies programmed in the students themselves by their oppressively uptight private school. Predictable as they might be, the comic fruits of the situation are unfailingly bountiful; Black's enthusiasm, coupled with the innocent charm of his students, transcends the screenplay's self-consciously formulaic nature to create a joyously positive, even inspirational film.

While The School of Rock may be too clean-cut (no drugs or sex) to truly be considered a "rock" film, it effectively expresses an idealistic vision of music as a means to self-affirmation, ideological resistance, and a force for positive change. Rock, as Dewey explains to his class, is about "sticking it to the man." In order to make such a silly (even if correct) anarchic statement ring true, The School of Rock sets up a wholly detestable "man" to whom Black provides the rock alternative. The children's parents insist on their playing classical music, so Dewey teaches them rock and roll; the school insists on their memorizing useless facts, so Dewey teaches them rock history (assigning, appropriately enough, albums by Yes and Led Zeppelin as homework).

As they learn about rock, the students learn to accept themselves: "I'm not cool enough to be in a band," piano-playing Lawrence protests, only to have Dewey indignantly tell him otherwise, lauding his talents as the pinnacle of coolness. The rest of the kids in the film too, have cool to spare: they learn fast (picking up "Sunshine of Your Love" piece-by-piece in one pitch-perfect scene), contribute their own youthful spirits, and in some cases, even begin to write music themselves.

It's a tried-and-true Bad News Bears kind of scenario, but it works, precisely because of its adherence to a formula.

Screenwriter White and director Linklater seem, in fact, to revel in the conventions, as though following them were more anarchic and "rock" than ironically satirizing them could never be. The School of Rock is never ironic or satirical: instead it takes feel-good movie values (building self-esteem, bringing a childlike joy to the repressed) and revives their now cliché-battered ability to excite and inspire.

The School of Rock is, for one, adequate compensation for Richard Linklater's last film, 2001's insufferable Waking Life. There's enough inarticulate and mindless fun in the film to make up for all the pseudo-philosophical bullshit Linklater's spewed forth in the past; the reasons for film's success, however, are perhaps better sought in White's script and Black's performance (not to mention a stellar cast of heretofore unknown child actors).

Some will no doubt find Black too obnoxious to stomach. Obnoxious he may be, but he has precisely the quality that the film needs; in a world of repressed children forced to grow up too quickly, he's an overgrown child who rejects the restraints of adulthood. The School of Rock is perhaps the most affecting film portrayal of anarchic elementary school youth since Jean Vigo's Zèro de Conduite,and one of the best mainstream rock-themed films ever made. While it may be too bland and formulaic to pack any real revolutionary punch, it's just subversive enough to appeal to the anarchic rock-lover in all of us. "I serve society by rocking," Black contends in one of The School of Rock's early scenes, explaining his social function to a skeptical friend. I, for one, believe him.