Entre les murs

I went to see a movie yesterday. I would have probably not chosen it myself, so I am glad my movie companion suggested it - The Class. For me, it is strongly reminiscent of a favourite of my adolescence, and actually the novel and not the movie, Up the Down Staircase. Nothing has changed much since then, it seems. Same caricatures of teachers; same misunderstandings, same tensions, same hopelessness. Piercing, poignant. Trained by my filmmaking son to appreciate the art of visual storytelling, I notice every little detail. Yet the story itself takes over. Some things are pathetically familiar, such as the staff meeting where the most important issue is the coffee machine. But I cannot help thinking - and say it to my friend: "Thank goodness I am not a schoolteacher!"