Cinematic teachers

Perhaps no one will be surprised to know that I'm a sucker for films about teachers and students. Among the films in this genre I have seen over the decades are Goodbye, Mr. Chips (the 1969 musical version), Dead Poets Society (1989), Mr. Holland's Opus (1995), and the magnificent television series, To Serve Them All My Days (1980), based on R. F. Delderfield's novel of the same name. Most such films recount the lives of inspirational teachers and the positive effects they had on their students. Those of us in the teaching profession would like to think that we too fall into this category and that we'll be similarly remembered by our students when we are gone.

Last week I watched The Emperor's Club (2002), which for the first half hour looked to be little more than another film in this genre. (NOTE: There are possible spoilers here.) It looked set to follow something of the plotline of Good Will Hunting (1997), in which an older mentor helps a young and brilliant incorrigible get his act and his life together. One would ordinarily expect that Kevin Kline, a revered teacher of ancient history at an élite boys' preparatory school, would have this impact on Emile Hirsh's character. One might expect Hirsch to go on to make his contribution to society, having Kline to thank for this.

But no, it doesn't quite work out that way. Kline makes a serious error in judgement and ultimately fails in his effort. Hirsch's character remains a narcissistic, deceptive person who, by film's end (and now played by Joel Gretch), is about to launch a political career. Kline is still revered by his colleagues and students, but he has to live with the fact that he misjudged the potential of one of these students to live a virtuous life. The larger society is about to pay for his mistake.

It's not a particularly pleasant way to end a film. But it provides a touch of realism to the paedagogical enterprise, which is as affected by sin as any other human activity. It certainly underscores the fearful responsibility of a teacher. But it also points to the limitations of the teacher himself, whose efforts might not always bear fruit in quite the way to which he aspires.

By the way, why is it that cinematic teachers always lecture in English or history or music? Why not politics? Perhaps someone will one day make a film about Woodrow Wilson's academic career at Princeton.