I’ll be honest: movies are my pop-cultural weak spot. Music? I’m your guy. Television? All over it. Weird, ubiquitous, multimedia phenomena? Regrettably up-to-date. But I’ve never been a big fan of the big screen. To remedy this shortcoming, I’m starting a new article series, Off Pitch On Pictures, where I’ll watch and discuss some of the most iconic films in history. The stipulation: all of these movies will feature music as the focus of the story, or at least as a major plot device. Can’t get too far out of that comfort zone.
First up is a movie I have seen many times: School of Rock. In this early-aughts classic, rock guitarist Dewey Finn (Jack Black) gets kicked out of his up-and-coming band for his embarrassing onstage antics. With the threat of eviction hanging over his head, Finn impersonates his substitute teacher roommate and scores a gig at a snobby elementary prep school, where he discovers his students have some serious musical talent. School of Rock is a fantastic movie, sure, but the passion in the performances and the attention to detail elevate it above just another silly Jack Black comedy. It’s essential viewing for any fan of rock n’ roll.
But let’s say you’re not a rock n’ roll fan. That’s fine! Neither was Mike White, who both wrote and acted in School of Rock. This one’s a great movie regardless of your musical preferences. First: Like any memorable comedy, School of Rock is stuffed with quotables. From insults that have entered my everyday lexicon (“You’re tacky and I hate you!”) to goofy one-liners (“Would you tell Picasso to sell his guitars?”), this movie never lets you go too long without a laugh.
As good as the writing is, the performances are what really sell School of Rock. Joan Cusack’s uptight Principal Mullins does more than just play foil to the unkempt Dewey Finn. Cusack’s delivery and mannerisms make it clear there’s more to Mullins than meets the eye. Miranda Cosgrove, who plays teachers’ pet Summer Hathaway, proves that child actors can often hold their own. And while the rest of the primary cast isn’t quite as solid as Cosgrove, almost all of them have a standout scene or two.
One performance, however, stands above the rest: Jack Black as Dewey Finn. Black isn’t known for his acting range, but his tendency to play some version of himself in everything is a strength in School of Rock, not a weakness. None of Finn’s passion for rock music is faked; Jack Black is really that much of a fan. I mean, this might as well be Dewey Finn on stage. Throw in Black’s musical talent and gift for physical comedy and you have a seamless fit between actor and role.
Jack Black’s performance is just one example of why School of Rock is greater than the sum of its parts. This movie isn’t just a great comedy, it’s a genuine love letter to rock n’ roll. The attention to detail in everything from the soundtrack, to the set design, to the band’s AC/DC-inspired outfits, shows School of Rock’s commitment to selling the audience on rock music. This wasn’t a movie designed solely to entertain you for an hour and a half. School of Rock wanted you to walk out of the theater and into the record store. Or if you’re watching in the present day, switch tabs from Netflix to Spotify.
Three major influences got me into rock n’ roll: my parents, Guitar Hero 3, and School of Rock. Of these three, School of Rock was the one that introduced me to the idea that rock was an institution, not just a genre of music. It can be consumed and discussed and appreciated long after the song stops playing. And while my listening has expanded beyond just rock n’ roll, I’ve kept that core belief that music is something to be revered. Maybe even blogged about.
Lyle B.