“I service society by rocking.”
So says Dewey Finn, a professional slacker and would-be guitarist, whose small potatoes band No Vacancy is making a play for the big time in a local Battle of the Bands contest. Sadly, Dewey’s talent isn’t as brawny as his anarchic spirit, so lead vocalist Theo kicks him out of the group and replaces him with a muscular dunce named Spider.
After intercepting a phone call intended for his roommate Ned, a devastated and financially desperate Dewey swallows his pride, loses some hair and dons a battered bow tie for a substitute teaching position at a prestigious private school.
Dewey’s rock ‘n’ roll dreams die hard, though. After he spots that the kids have obvious musical talent (albeit with classical instruments), he formulates a plan to avenge his dismissal from No Vacancy and back his own entry in the Battle of the Bands. Suddenly, the class is faced with a new special project called “Rock Band.” The kids must fill roles as diverse as lead guitarist, vocalist, security, roadie and even groupie before the band can reach its full potential.
Can this scraggly Pied Piper lead his children onward to amp-exploding glory, or will he be discovered before his delusions of rocking grandeur can be fulfilled?
This is the basic plot for “School of Rock,” a refreshingly straightforward new comedy from the habitually analytical minds of screenwriter Mike White and director Richard Linklater.
White is the acerbic soul responsible for the lacerating indies “The Good Girl” and “Chuck and Buck,” as well as the underrated mainstream laffer “Orange County.”
Linklater is the talented helmer who gave the art-house world the brainy 2001 double bill of “Tape” and “Waking Life.”
It’s no surprise that these two would come together for a film project, but it is unexpected when the result is a mainstream, family-friendly crowd-pleaser.
By all accounts, “School of Rock” is overloaded with talent behind the camera, yet White’s script leaves something to be desired when compared to his earlier work. While the writer’s off-kilter sense of humor remains mostly intact, the comedy is less intellectual, less barbed, less memorable.
Linklater shows a steady hand at the wheel, finding quiet moments of urgency and sadness in Dewey’s existence of which he may not yet be aware, but the whole enterprise depends on the spirit and malleability of its leading man to stay afloat.
Luckily for all involved, the leading man is Jack Black, who finally shoulders a starring role with all the charisma and devilish magnetism that evaded him in the awkward “Shallow Hal.”
A husky dervish of obnoxious bluster and feckless physicality, Black makes “School of Rock” a one-man show that’s actually worth watching. He’s brilliant with a sarcastic one-liner, but he proves he can be equally adept at a sort of begrudging sweetness. Black exudes a sincerity beneath his cynical exterior, whether he’s extolling the virtues of the opening chords of “Iron Man,” distracting the nosy school principal (a splendid Joan Cusack) from uncovering his project or pontificating the fact that “one great rock show can change the world,” that makes the audience root for Dewey and his kids to win in the end.
With Black onscreen for almost all of the movie’s hour and 45 minutes, “School of Rock” coasts by on affability and easygoing charm, even if the results are more comforting than genuinely surprising. The film is sunny but slight, entertaining but toothless.
The action often flirts with clich as the kids’ relationships with Dewey and with their concerned parents change from belligerent to ceremoniously saccharine, but Linklater usually pulls back when things threaten to become too heavy-handed.
You’ve seen this material before, but because of the good will created by the cast (especially Black and his class of fresh-faced youngsters) and crew, you won’t mind seeing it again. It’s not as great as its behind-the-camera pedigree might lead you to hope, but it’s good enough to create “musical fusion” at the slow fall box office for several weekends to come.