The Teacher's Lounge (Das Lehrerzimmer)

 

Director İlker Çatak

Çatak with lead actress Léonie Benesch

THE TEACHER’S LOUNGE (Das Lehrerzimmer)              B                                           Germany  (98 mi)  2023  d: İlker Çatak

What happens in the teacher’s lounge stays in the teacher’s lounge.

This film takes us back to Maren Ade’s THE FOREST THROUGH THE TREES (2003), another provocative German film that accentuates the psychological mistreatment and humiliation of a substitute teacher who becomes disturbingly isolated and withdrawn, where the performance by the socially awkward Eva Löbau is entirely believable, while also recalling other classroom dramas like Richard Brooks’ Blackboard Jungle (1955), Ryan Fleck’s Half-Nelson (2006), or Laurent Cantet’s The Class (Entre Les Murs) (2008), though this occasionally veers into the intensity of a thriller, where the eerie musical score by Marvin Miller plays havoc with our imagination.  Written by Johannes Duncker and director İlker Çatak, as both attended the same school in Istanbul, the focus of the entire film is on the psychological pitfalls of an idealistic, well-meaning schoolteacher played by Léonie Benesch, so good as the schoolteacher’s virginal fiancé in Michael Haneke’s The White Ribbon (Das Weiße Band – Eine deutsche Kindergeschichte) (2009) before disappearing into television crime dramas for the past decade, coming into her own with this performance, where she is onscreen in nearly every shot, with the camera constantly following her face.  Shot by Judith Kaufmann in a tight 4:3 format, with a strict composition of image and sound, the camera never leaves the school premises, creating a suffocating atmosphere from a claustrophobic world unto itself, where the protagonist seems firmly trapped in a network of door frames, corridors, and stairs, where there’s a distressing narrowing of space with no place to breathe, leading to insecure smiles and persistently nervous looks, discovering it’s increasingly difficult to follow her own moral compass.  A raw and gritty docudrama, the film won 5 German Film Awards, including Best Film, Director, Actress, Screenplay, and Editing, while also making the final cut for the Academy’s Best International Feature.  The film offers a critical eye on the thankless task of being a teacher, where expectations to mold the minds of the next generation are unrealistically high, with its own unique challenges, pressured by helicopter parents who make absurd demands and do not want the best for the class, but the best for their child, yet the dwindling allocation of resources can undermine that goal, leaving schools perpetually understaffed, raising questions of who is ultimately responsible.  Schools tend to be tight-knit communities among themselves, like little fiefdoms with their own set of rules administered by a bureaucratic hierarchy that reflects the role of government in a larger society, becoming a microcosm for all the complexities of a modern democratic society, as Germany is reluctant to deal with its latent racism and xenophobia, where its problems are becoming practically irresolvable.  Actress Eva Löbau returns here in a new iteration of her previous role, now seemingly older and wiser, playing a key role as an administrative secretary in this unfolding drama where seemingly minor things can spiral out of control really quickly, producing a snowball effect of misunderstandings.  The two women are critically linked, initially viewed as allies on a common front, but a series of events quickly changes their positions, suddenly becoming adversaries in a precarious battle to alter or uncover the truth, becoming a fiery RASHOMON (1950) morality play of contrasting viewpoints.  Çatak is the son of Turkish immigrants in Germany, having lived for part of his childhood with his family in Istanbul before studying film at the prestigious Dekra University of Media in Berlin.  Racial themes play a part of his films, though typically on the peripheral, particularly the role of Turks, who happen to be the largest ethnic minority in Germany.  

Europe seems to be replacing America in producing high quality indie movies that delve into troubling situations with cleverness and astuteness, where this explores the importance of optics and politics within a school institution, yet also feels provocatively engineered to confuse and frustrate viewers as much as possible.  This unpretentious film holds a mirror to our own longstanding cultural divisions, where social tensions in Germany are explored through the prism of education, with a prevalence of bullying, prejudice, and self-righteousness, playing out in much the same way as events unfold in everyday life, where no one admits to their own misconduct, and people are quick to take sides and place blame, yet little is actually done to rectify the problems that occur, delivering a multi-level dynamic that is both metaphorical and engaging, taking a deep dive into double standards and political correctness, revealing the fragile state of any democracy.  Carla Nowak (Léonie Benesch) is a new middle school math and physical education instructor, yet the ominous sounds that accompany her on her walk through the hallways is a reminder of what awaits her, as the customary ritual of classroom pleasantries quickly dissipates after we discover a series of petty thefts have been regularly occurring in the teacher’s lounge where students are not allowed, with the school imposing its “zero tolerance” policy, as school authorities enter her classroom, send the girls out into the hallways while the boys are instructed to empty their pockets, with suspicion falling on the shoulders of a young Turkish émigré, Ali (Can Rodenbostel), whose pleas of innocence are ignored.  Yet when the parents are called in, the mother indicates she gave him some extra cash that morning to buy a video game.  Carla objects to the stronghanded tactics used, offering support to the young student who she believes was wrongly suspected, creating unnecessary divisions not only in the classroom, but in the way the school conducts its own business.  As a math teacher, she explains in one of her lessons, “The important thing to remember is that a proof needs a derivation that builds up step by step,” yet it soon becomes clear this is about more than just a math task.  Attempting to get to the heart of the matter, she devises her own strategy, leaving her coat unattended in the teacher’s lounge during a classroom, while allowing her laptop computer to film the pilfering of her pocketbook.  What she sees is only the arm of the suspected culprit reaching into her pocket, where the clothing caught on camera matches the blouse of the school secretary, Ms. Kuhn (Eva Löbau).  Confronted with the allegations, Ms. Kuhn grows highly indignant, vigorously refuting any suggestions of theft while asserting she has been unfairly targeted, and instead turns the tables on Carla, believing her privacy has been invaded by a spying device making an illegal secret recording, a violation of school policy that particularly upsets the other teachers, suggesting Ms. Nowak is not to be trusted.  This quickly escalates into an overblown drama, with the school making matters worse by suspending Ms. Kuhn until an investigation can be completed, creating tension and hostilities in the ranks, with some believing the police should be called.  An embarrassed Carla is at the center of it all, thinking she was handling it quietly and discreetly, but what she’s really done is stir a hornet’s nest, with credibility undermined, rumors flying, and outraged students wanting answers, while a meeting with parents quickly escalates into a witch trial, yet no one can speak about the incident due to an ongoing investigation, leaving the school stuck in limbo, paralyzed by scandal and unending turmoil.   

What Çatak has created is an unsettling psychological portrait of well-intentioned plans going awry, with the story shifting into disturbing territory when it is revealed one of Carla’s most formidable students, Oskar (Leo Stettnisch, exhibiting a remarkable capacity to internalize a complex role), is the son of Ms. Kuhn.  Bright and attentive, a socially awkward loner who has math skills far superior to anyone else in the classroom, he is outraged at the accusations against his mother, defiantly standing up for her, claiming she is not a thief, demonstrating his dissatisfaction by his unruly behavior in the classroom, becoming a constant disruptive presence, aligning his fellow students against the authority of the teacher in an act of rebellion, leaving her trapped and ostracized.  Adding to the mix is the school newspaper, whose editorial stance is “Truth overcomes all bonds.  Everything else is just PR,” as young budding journalists attempt to unravel the truth by speaking to all parties involved, unleashing a controversial exposé that only fans the flames of discord, leaving Carla devastated by the unflattering look, while teachers are also portrayed in a hypocritical light.  The school responds by ignominiously censoring the publication, rounding up all the existing copies in a blatant attempt to cover up the truth, which only exacerbates the situation.  While there are many forces in play, Çatak has superbly constructed a choreography of shifting emotions that resembles a rollercoaster ride through hostile territory, seen entirely through the eyes of Ms. Nowak, who is something of an unreliable narrator, losing her own sense of identity, veering into surreal hallucinations at one point, continually leaving viewers off balance, as there are simply no easy answers provided.  Perhaps the biggest offender is the administrative hysteria coming from school principal Dr. Böhm (Anne-Kathrin Gummich), who prides herself in implementing a zero-tolerance policy, yet that means literally no one is treated fairly, as it leads to denunciation, suspicion, and exclusion rather than creating a safe space, condemning one and all with the mere mention of rumors or accusations, mistaking conformity for justice, believing this get tough policy plays well with the parents and society at large, suggesting society needs a scapegoat to blame in order to function, yet the dysfunctional effect it has on everyone involved is disastrous, as no one is left unscathed.  The film is a train wreck of misguided policies, where there is never any hint of finding the truth, which becomes something to fear, suppressed at every opportunity, leaving students, teachers, and parents alike caught in a trap of confusion, mostly befuddled by how facts are intentionally misconstrued or ignored altogether, where viewers are left to decipher what they can from the clues presented and draw their own conclusions.  It’s interesting that moral values are the hallmarks of a democratic society, always listed among its strongest virtues, yet when trouble hits home, those values are quickly thrown out the window in acts of self-preservation, which have the effect of sabotaging the truth, or muddling the playing field, creating a cloud of confusion that leaves no one knowing for sure just what happened.  The finale is its own just reward, beautifully presented, as if in a dream, prefaced by the music of Mendelssohn, Overture to A Midsummer Night's Dream, Op. 21, MWV P3 YouTube (12:00), where Çatak has presented a what-if scenario in a paranoid, overly suspicious society where no good deed goes unpunished, yet everyone thinks they’re doing the right thing.  A reflection of the dangerously unstable world we live in, the film suggests it’s not too late to change the path we’re on.  

Happy-Go-Lucky

Sally Hawkins and director Mike Leigh on the set of Happy-Go-Lucky  

 

HAPPY-GO-LUCKY        B              

Great Britain  (118 mi)  2008  ‘Scope  d:  Mike Leigh

Are you happy?

This question is asked several times throughout the film, almost as a throwaway line, as it can easily get lost in the continuous babble of the lead character known as Poppy (Sally Hawkins).  While she asks it of others, the question is more appropriately asked of her.  For the opening thirty minutes or more, it is impossible to wipe that smile off her face, as if it is artificially attached.  Whether good or bad circumstances, she simply exudes a dizzying good humor that feels more like a reflex action than the real thing, as if all the nervous chatter coming out of her mouth is covering up something that lies beneath.  She lives with a more grounded roommate Zoe, Alexis Zegerman, her best friend in the world, as they traveled through Australia and Southeast Asia together and now both teach inner city elementary school children in London, but the storyline implies there is perhaps more to their relationship.  Poppy, however, is also interested in men, as if bisexual curiosity offers a means to explore her own sense of unfulfilled identity, which at age thirty is still an open question.  It is as a teacher that Poppy finally gets serious, as her tendency to overreact to everything in general is in perfect synch to the world of first graders, as rather than berate an obviously troubled child who is starting to hit other children, she befriends him with the hopes of earning his trust.  Her affection is in earnest, but the audience wonders what troubled past of her own remains concealed.  This is exacerbated further in a somewhat surreal scene where she inexplicably puts herself in harm’s way and visits an obviously crazed homeless man (Stanley Townsend) and tries to connect with him, as if attempting to bring him some degree of warmth or happiness.  Some give their pocket change, Poppy gives her smile and good cheer.  But upon returning home, she conceals where she’s been, as if she can’t really explain it even to herself.

Leigh is known by his connection to theater and his rigorous improvisational rehearsals not only prior to shooting but prior to developing his story.  Unfortunately, much of this film feels like an attempt to string together several of these worked out sequences, never really creating a cohesive whole.  As a result, the story becomes a contrast in moods told in different segments, a visit to a book store, girls night out at the disco, Poppy’s stolen bicycle and her subsequent decision to take driving lessons from an irascible, pathologically uptight misanthrope (Eddie Marsan) who is the living personification of road rage, flamenco dance classes from an infinitely charming (“This is My Space!!!”) Spanish instructor from Seville (Karina Fernandez, who it turns out is not even Spanish), who encourages women to seek their flamboyant side, a gentleman caller, visits to her discordant family members, as well as scenes from school.  What these scenes all have in common is that they are revealed from the singular perspective of Poppy’s character, which becomes clearer and of greater interest over time.  Despite this development, Poppy continues to remain a mystery, as she obviously wants to please the world around her but the magical unanswered question is why?  What motivates her?  Behind the smiles and the giggles and the sarcastic, smart aleck comments, one wonders if she’s truly happy or simply pretending to be.

Throughout the film we wait for the other shoe to fall, for Poppy’s relentlessly cheerful disposition to be put to the test, but strangely, it never is, not seriously anyways, which is something of a disappointment, as it leaves us in limbo with the glass half empty and half full.  What are we to make of this?  While the look of the film is filled with bright cheerful colors, red and yellow cars and Poppy’s own psychedelically charged bohemian outfits, with a different pair of knee-length boots for every day of the week, there’s an overly strident string quartet from Gary Yershon’s  score heard throughout the film that has a carnival air about it, as if we are caught on a merry-go-round, whose somewhat pompous notes on occasion offer a sneer of disapproval, like the intrusion of gray clouds, perhaps the voice of the director or some smug I-told-you-so narration.  The constant theme of chamber music reminds us this is a chamber drama which offers a window into the typically intensely realistic Mike Leigh rendering of the human condition, dressed up here with bright sunshine and good cheer, but the picture of happiness on display here nonetheless borders on the artificially realized and the surreal, remaining equally elusive, hard to find, and arguably out of reach.    

The Lesson (Izlaiduma gads)

THE LESSON (Izlaiduma gads)        C                                   

Latvia   Russia  (108 mi)  2014  d:  Andris Gauja

Writer, director, producer, and musical composer, Andris Gauja has attempted to do it all in his first feature film, where Latvian films are seen all too rarely at film festivals.  While originally intended as a documentary shooting a group of graduating high school seniors, eventually the schools kicked them out telling them they couldn’t shoot there any more, apparently due to the behavior of the kids, as it was perceived as portraying Latvians in a poor light.  Gauja then broadened his concept into a feature film, becoming a love story on the run.  Much of what is shown onscreen is utterly preposterous, where by all accounts, the initial instincts of the schools do seem well founded, as this does present Latvia in an extremely negative manner, where its jaded citizens are used to living in such a corrupt and deteriorating society that moral laws no longer apply, where there is no longer any recognizable concept of right and wrong.  Latvia was invaded and occupied by Nazi Germany during WWII, then after the war re-occupied by the Soviets for the next 50 years until the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991, where as a consequence, many Russians still live in Latvia along with Estonians, both neighboring nations, each comprising about 25% of the population.  Shot in the Latvian city of Riga, the film opens with an unpleasant break-up, where young and attractive Zane, Inga Alsina-Lasmane, is forced to rebuild her life, but opens the new school year as the Russian instructor, but also the mentor to an unruly group of graduating seniors.  This concept of a mentor is confusing to many, as it’s a position that doesn’t exist elsewhere, but their role is someone nearer the age of the students than other teachers who acts as an intermediary should authority issues or communication conflicts arise.  What’s perhaps most surprising is how mentors act outside the dictates of school guidelines, where they need to be liked and appreciated by the students, so they often invite them into their homes for parties and act as a party planner for their active social lives. 

On her first day, only a handful of kids show up for class, as the rest are loitering around outside smoking and making fun of those who actually attend class.  To combat this indifference, Zane organizes a beach field trip/party that turns into a drunken all-night affair with no adult supervision whatsoever, swimming naked in the sea, smoking and drinking whatever they want, where it obviously spirals out of control.  Despite complaints from other teachers and several parents afterwards, Zane is apparently pleased with herself as she’s drawn the students back into her class.  Probing into the personal life of one of her troubled students, she actually invites one of the girls, Inta (Ieva Apine), to come live with her, while at the same time, after her initial refusal, she begins having an affair with one of the students, Max (Marcis Klatenbergs), a guy who barely even shows up for class, whose father is a Russian gangster affiliated with the mafia.  This is a film where actions seem to have little or no consequences, as Inta’s parents and family never come looking for her, while Max’s parents obviously don’t give a damn either.  Soon, with his father’s money, Max is enticing Zane with a romantic weekend to Paris, dining in fancy restaurants, eventually landing in bed, taking naked pictures of each other, where this may as well be the realization of a male fantasy bearing little to no relation to reality.  One wonders how this young woman could be so blind as to think none of this would matter, or that the photos wouldn’t find their way onto the Internet, where she’s jeopardizing her entire career over a relatively undistinguished son of a gangster, who without his daddy’s money wouldn’t attract anyone’s interest.  Making matters worse, as if it wasn’t bad enough the first time, Zane organizes another drunken party at her own home, again without any adult supervision, and again all hell breaks out as the kids are free to do whatever they want. 

None of the kids are professional actors and it shows, as they play stereotypes of unruly, disaffected kids, often seen smoking and turning their video cameras on in the classroom, sulking much of the time, showing no hope or any prospects for the future, never spending any time doing homework, never taking any tests, where it’s just not like any school anyone ever attended.  Zane is never seen actually teaching the class, but instead makes herself busy as their social planner.  When other teachers get wind of what’s going on, she tells them to mind their own business, as she’s too busy playing the popular girl in school, where she’s completely oblivious that any of her actions will have negative ramifications.  Her deluded state of mind makes for uncomfortable cinema, where the unseen horror is how the film plays into the audience’s expectations, knowing nothing good could come of this, where you wait for the bombs to explode.  It’s all a bit amateurish, where there’s a reason kids aren’t the teachers in classrooms, as Zane simply shows no aptitude for professionalism, where she’s something of a disgrace to the teaching profession, where in many societies she’d be locked up on morals charges.  Making matters worse, there’s little to no chemistry between any of the characters, including the smitten couple, which only makes this more uncomfortable, as it’s an overly contrived picture of a nation, once the Soviets left, with no moral authority.  It’s a strange and unusual portrayal of an empty society, wildly uneven throughout, yet the performance of Inga Alsina-Lasmane is a bit captivating, where the premise is a train wreck waiting to happen with the audience taking on the role of interested onlookers.  The crash is something unexpected, as love on the run never looked more bleak, where Russia turns into an industrial wasteland without a hint of hospitality, as if they entered into a colorless dead zone that only exists in sci-fi movies.  Peppering the film with many pop songs, some written by the director, the film retains a bleak youthful view of crushed hopes and a nonexistent future, supposedly broken before any of these kids arrived, but they are under no illusions about their ability to fix anything.