If you can come up with a definitive, practical solution to these questions (and I know I can’t), perhaps you’d like to explain it to François Marin, the central character of Laurent Cantet’s critically acclaimed “The Class.” François is a hard-working, well-intentioned French teacher at a Parisian public middle school dominated by a substantial immigrant population, ranging from Africans to Arabs to Chinese. Although the camera never leaves the confines of the school (the French title of the film, “Entre les murs,” translates to “between the walls,” a more appropriate indicator of the film’s intimacy), the “outside” world is never seen but is always felt in the interaction between François and his students and between the students themselves, be it the revelation of one student’s mother’s arrest for illegal residency or a debate over World Cup soccer loyalties.
In fact, the audience never sees a perspective besides that of François. The small glimmer presented of the tumultuous adolescent lives of the students comes from snatches of their conversation and behavior in the classroom, which ultimately reveals to the viewer the frustration that constantly faces François. One man could not possibly give each child the attention and guidance so desperately needed to succeed. The students’ lives and hardships outside of class clearly affect their classroom behavior. But how can François help them when his range of influence is limited to within the school walls?
In the face of disrespect and failing grades, the only option available to François is often discipline. Though he clearly has doubts as to the effectiveness of the continual cycle of detention, suspension and expulsion, François’ pragmatic colleagues assure him there is no other way to deal with unwanted behavior. Such authority is an integral part of their role in the school: They have to teach the students that their actions have consequences, that they have to show proper respect to authority, that receiving an education is a privilege. Disciplining according to action rather than intention is the only way of achieving these things … right?
In a nutshell, “The Class” confronts just about every issue facing inner-city public education today. The ethnic diversity of the school may be distinctly French, but the situations depicted could easily take place in any American city. Many of the students are instantly recognizable (the know-it-all, the goth, the troublemaker, the gossip), but the strength of each unique personality conveys the adolescent search for an identity rather than any move on the filmmakers’ part to fulfill stereotypical roles. Put together the all-too-familiar setting of the classroom and these extremely identifiable characters, and you are left with an incredibly relatable film. Seeing the story unfold feels like watching a slice of reality rather than a work of fiction.
To call “The Class” a work of fiction, however, is almost as inaccurate as to call it a documentary. The film is based on a novel by François Bégaudeau, a semi-autobiography closely reflecting his own experiences as a teacher. Mr. Bégaudeau also happens to be the actor playing François Marin. None of the students is a professional actor, and most of their characters are addressed by the same name as the child portraying them. Reportedly, the adolescents never had a script but simply improvised their own classroom dialogue so accurately to their characters that it lined up almost perfectly with what François had written in his book (reinforcing the idea that the story is so relatable, it’s almost archetypical). Though a narrative eventually emerges from these exchanges, it arises so naturally that the viewer barely notices the transition.
The line between actor and created character fluctuates so often, it essentially becomes irrelevant. Because the characters are so natural that they seem to be playing themselves, some have questioned whether the students could actually be called actors. Personally, I agree with the assertion of Mr. Bégaudeau that “nothing could be farther from the truth.” The best acting requires a certain convergence of player and part, and these kids have discovered this secret much faster than most Hollywood stars.
In the end, “The Class” is an alternately touching and thought-provoking depiction of community. The closing scene shows a friendly soccer match between the students and their teachers. Though the events of the film could justify a harsher, “us versus them” interpretation of the game, the pure joy of the moment speaks to something deeper. As the shot cuts to François Marin’s empty classroom, the laughs and cries of the students and teachers mingle together, suggesting the unity and dependency of the school’s members. Whatever frustration, conflict and violence they endure, these people need each other. “The Class” leaves viewers with a message that members of any academic community should be able to appreciate.