Rapid Response: School of Rock

I’ve got a cousin who is about 15 right now. I don’t really know what kind of music he’s into, but he’s probably at the stage I was at his age, maybe still in a mostly Beatles phase and liking other good music but not quite there yet as someone who lives and breathes it. I always wondered what kind of person I’d be if I was listening to Arcade Fire in 2004 when I was 14, so I had hoped to get him started on the right foot. Maybe I didn’t need to try and turn him into a misanthrope by giving him as much Cure, Smiths and Joy Division as I did, but the question remains: How do you get someone, either a kid or someone who is behind the curve, into loving music?

Well for one, you could show them “School of Rock.” This was a movie I had watched a lot from about the ages of 12 to 15, and I wondered if it would hold up as well now that I’m 22 and like music a little more complex than the ACDC the movie salutes. Jack Black’s Dewey Finn still lives in that “Golden Age” of meat and potatoes ’70s rock that would soon transform itself into ’80s hair metal and Spinal Tap self parody, and you could probably learn more about good music from the likes of “Almost Famous” or “High Fidelity,” which also stars Jack Black.

But the reason this is still a great movie to have on a parent’s DVD shelf for their kids is that it instills in them these exciting values of rebellion and thrashing out to epic rock without dipping into any of the cynical territory that usually goes along with it. Of course it mildly alludes to drinking, sex, drugs and violence, but those things are mostly frowned upon and afterthoughts to the idea of changing the world with a face-melting guitar solo by a 10-year-old. It maintains a sense of innocent rebellion by telling “The Man” to “step-off” by singing in very blunt terms, “I had to do my chores today/so I am really ticked off!”

Jack Black is really at the core of the movie’s good-hearted vibes, not the kids. He puts on that air of “don’t give a crap” when he first walks into the children’s classroom, but he quickly drops that act and is otherwise brimming enthusiasm and sincerity at every moment he gets to listen to these kids perform. Take that first scene where he discovers if they all can play. The scene works way too well in getting these kids up and rocking at once, but the movie doesn’t jam obvious references down your throat, and Black puts so much energy into cartoonish hand gestures and memorable one-liners (“you turn it on its side and ‘cello’ you got a bass!”) that you, nor your kids, will mind.

Black is his own vocal instrument, and he can give the idea of exciting rock while being funny doing it. Most kids today have heard shredding guitar solos on their dad’s Zeppelin albums, but they maybe shrug in ways previous generations didn’t. Black does one better by performing every bit of his own ridiculous song. Kids will remember his goofing around, not the music itself, but they’ll get the idea.

And by the movie’s end, both in the live performance on stage and in the post-credits sequence, “School of Rock” delivers everything as promised. Each of the kids, who all have their individual moments of token problems and growth, get to strut their stuff in one epic finale. It’s simple, ’70s rock, but it has the style and the attitude just right.

Bernie

Most of us have something of a bullshit detector when it comes to judging people. If they seem too good to be true, they probably are. “Bernie” is a film that always teeters on the edge of self-parody and cynicism, but it carefully tries to prove in its 98 minutes that its title character is as good and noble as he seems.

It tells the true story of a mortician (sorry, Funeral Director. Sorry again, Assistant Funeral Director) in Carthage, Texas who is one of the most loved people in town. Bernie Tiede (Jack Black) makes his work into an art, revealing his care, eloquence and theatrics in an opening scene where Bernie demonstrates to a classroom the procedure to preparing a body for casketing. Director Richard Linklater gets documentary style testimonials from Carthage townspeople, some character actors and some people who really knew Bernie, but you wouldn’t know the difference, to say just how wonderful he was.

“He had the ability to make the world feel good,” says one local. These people are essential to the portrayal of Bernie. One guy explains the difference between the regions of Texas, how you have the Dallas snobs, Austin liberals, San Antonio Tex Mex, West Texas hicks and finally the good hearted simple folk of the small town of Carthage. “In a small town, we always expect the worst, but also expect the best,” says another.

And Bernie was the best of them. The way they talk about him is so optimistically glossy, so disarming and so near ridiculous in Bernie’s humanitarian capabilities, including showing his love for the DLOL’s (Dear Little Old Ladies) and singing in church. For a while you think you’re watching a Christopher Guest movie about simpletons in the Deep South, and Linklater intentionally keeps you guessing.

Because before long, Bernie starts a relationship with Marjorie Nugent (Shirley MacLaine), a bitter, wealthy widow who is hated in town and eventually makes Bernie her servant. “She’d rip you a brand new, three bed, two bath asshole,” says one townsperson, a line so good that if it didn’t actually come from a real townsperson you wish it was.

She proves so controlling of Bernie that he suffers an out-of-body moment and shoots and kills Marjorie with an air rifle. He takes her money and begins donating around the community, and no one seems to notice she’s gone because she’s so disliked. Eventually Bernie is caught, and a District Attorney, Danny Buck (Matthew McConaughey), begins to raise all of our old questions about Bernie as soon as we start to see him as a loveable saint.

Is he gay? Is he evil? Is he putting on an act? Is he a serial killer? Is he driven crazy by his religion? Why doesn’t he have any greed, vices or flaws? Why would he hang out with Marjorie otherwise? Why does he dress and act the way he does, with a lilting voice, colorful polo shirts and a tidy haircut beneath a silly hat?

The beauty of Jack Black’s performance here is that he is disarming, innocent and likeable, and yet he’s never a caricature. This is a character ripe for satire, and the movie is always on that fine line, but Black delivers a very sincere performance.

Similarly, McConaughey has a field day with his role. His haircut and glasses belong to another decade, and here he’s even showing a touch of gray. He’s sincere in not mocking or judging Bernie either, but he makes clear he has his suspicions and his own morals to uphold. What’s one of the tipoffs in assuming Bernie’s sexuality? “And the kicker is, he always wore sandals.”

Linklater has told a really special story here by making it about character, not story at all. His blend of docu-realism and theatrical vitality in a few surprise song and dance numbers keeps us in tow, always wondering what we’re missing about Bernie but ultimately content in showing that this guy is as good as can be.

3 ½ stars

The Muppets (2011)

2011’s “The Muppets” is bursting from the seams with self-aware cameos and nostalgia.

2011 was the year of nostalgia, and for college-aged students like myself there was no movie more nostalgic than “The Muppets.”

And even though the movie is notoriously self-aware, in awe of its own nostalgia and acts as a love letter to a group of fans I do not subscribe to (I have a much greater penchant for “Sesame Street’s” Grover), “The Muppets” is the sort of insanely irreverent, goofy and goodhearted movie that belongs in our pop culture lexicon.

They also deserve to be performers at the Oscars, even though that’s for sure not happening. “The Muppets” has the sort of random, viral video presentation that would make it perfect for an awards ceremony. Continue reading “The Muppets (2011)”