Revisited: School of Rock, 22 Years Later

Oh, the glories of chasing the “highs and lows” of (not high school football) but of rock and roll. Jack Black’s 2003 School of Rock remained a classic in my household. I remember cherishing my DVD copy and playing it repeatedly on the 6x6 TV in the back of my mom’s mini-van. There’s no question, really, as to why I was so obsessed: Black and White, amidst their many achievements, created a masterpiece that captures the life of a starving, desperate artist, too much of a failure to succeed, yet too in love with his craft to ever consider giving up.

Caught in a life of failures but equipped with a deep, unyielding love of music, Black’s Dewey Finn character impersonates his substitute teacher roommate to land a “gig” at the prestigious private school, Horace Green. After much reluctance and a hilarious “I’m hungover, and I got the runs” lesson, Dewey realizes he may have found his best shot at winning the battle of the bans: his posh but gifted students. Though he embarks on this journey merely to pay rent, Dewey realizes that music is about connection, not “getting loaded and acting like a jerk.” Rock and roll is about sticking it to the man, and these kids did that.

Watching Jack Black fail a crowd surf miserably at the start of School of Rock reminds me of the prime of early-2000s comedic films. There are some heavy hitters here. Black himself, his infamous sidekick Mike White, Sarah Silverman, and Joan Cusack. And even though he is not a comedic actor, Broadway legend Adam Pascal provides shredding vocals and guitar riffs that remind me of his performance in RENT. Their performances are as to be expected: phenomenal. Dewey’s character writing consists of quick one-liners, rock and roll quips, and constant reiteration of “wrong” in response to being an alcoholic and to “Puff Daddy” being one of his student’s favorite musicians.

Speaking of students, the younger cast did a great job as well. Some front runners are Freddie Jones, Summer, and Zac Mooneyham, with occasional scenes featuring the Mr. Cool Lawrence and Aretha-esque belter, Tamika. Miranda Cosgrove is an actress most familiar to viewers of today, 22 years since the release of School of Rock. Still, some may remember this was her first breakout role before moving on to Drake and Josh and later iCarly. Even the background performances were outstanding. I reflect on the scene with Cusack yelling at a young girl in the principal’s office. Through the look of terror, the audience truly believes being in this office with Principal Roz is the worst place you could be.

Returning 22 years later, I find myself saddened, remembering that kids of today, like the kids of Horace Green Prep, will not know the shredding riffs and magical vocals of legends like Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, ACDC, and Motorhead. That’s why movies like these, time capsules and period pieces, stand as essential relics of times that may soon be forgotten, something straight out of Dewey Finn’s nightmares: “What are they teaching at this school!" The classic rock and roll themes are all there: nonconformity, sticking it to the man, and the power of music to unite generations and bridge gaps between people, even the snobs of Horace Green. There’s even a slight nod to the “man” ruining rock and roll “with a little thing called MTV!”

I love this movie, both for the performances, the themes, and the setting. When Dewey looks out his window to kids in their preparatory uniforms, leaning and sitting on the hood of a yellow school bus with a grayscale camera filter of a trashed city street behind them, he rejoices, “That is so punk rock.” I can’t help but agree. Everything contributes to the mis-en-scene flawlessly: the looming gloom of the man, the oppressive and graying society pressing further and further into the mind of our protagonist, convinced that music is his calling, but society is dragging him down. A plethora of shots capture more of these themes, like when the kids have to play sick to get into Battle of the Bands, and then the immediate jump cuts to them sitting in the back of Dewey’s car jamming out. Freddie taps his drumsticks on a guitar amp as Dewey belts out the obnoxious high tunes at the beginning of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song.”

The themes of School of Rock extend far past the nonconformity of rock and roll. We get significant inklings of Dewey’s future direction and success as a music teacher. Even in the beginning, he doesn’t place judgment on any of the students (save for Summer’s horrendous rendition of Cats’ "Memory”). Like any good teacher, Dewey gives everyone a chance to shine, even the roadies, the groupies, and ‘Fancy Pants’ Billy, the band’s flamboyant stylist. The messages are wholesome for the kids, too, emphasizing the importance of teachers like Dewey. He doesn’t realize until the end that he’s a great teacher and just needed to teach something he was passionate about but may never have succeeded by himself. As he says in the movie, “Those who can’t do, teach. And those who can’t teach, teach gym.”

When Tamika struggles with body positivity, he reminds her of Aretha Franklin. “She was a big lady, but when she sang, everyone wanted to party with Aretha.” When Lawrence thinks he isn’t cool enough to be in the band, Dewey reassures him with a cool “Mr. Cool” handshake. Freddie is a spaz even from the beginning, but Dewey sees the potential in his ADHD, making the perfect high-energy drummer who can’t wait to hit something “Because [he] can’t play anything else.” When Zac struggles with an intense, unyielding father, Dewey teaches him the most crucial lesson in the film, central to being a great rocker: “Step off.”

Scenes like the “Pick Up the Pieces” music montage, where Dewey teaches Rock History, Rock Appreciation, and Theory, expand on the film's magic. The kids are assigned different homework lessons (fittingly, albums to listen to), capturing some of the greatest music ever created. The soundtrack is terrific, with another great scene of Dewey playing Stevie Nicks on the jukebox, hoping to get the principal drunk, knowing she has an affinity for dancing on tabletops whenever Stevie comes on. This is something Roz and I share, as a matter of fact. Another similarity to Roz is when she leaves the room of screaming parents, “ONE SECOND,” and walks down the stairs to stand stiff as a board in the corner of the stairwell, sighing. Girl, same.

The ending, I think, receives mixed reviews, even today. Kurtis Connor once called it the “School of Rock treatment.” The big lesson is that it doesn’t matter if you win (Sex Pistols never won anything); it only matters that you played a “Kick ass show,” one so good it could change the world. I love the ending cause they did play a kick-ass show, despite No Vacancy’s win, and Dewey gets the happy ending we were rooting for anyway: a purpose and a career where he can pay rent while still engaging in his passions. He understands that he is not the best rocker and, like Ned, has somewhat given up on the dream of making it big. But this doesn’t stop him; he is so proud to see his students flourish in a way he never could. That, I think, is the mark of a truly great teacher.

School of Rock is a classic movie, even a comfort one. I love the soundtrack, the humor, and the cuts with music video-esque scenes that remind me of the importance of a good musical soundtrack, perfect for a rock and roll-centered movie. 10/10.