Billy.
You.
Billy, we've already told me off.
Let's move on.
You're tacky and I hate you.
OK.
You see me after class.
Movies have never been bereft in conmen and hustlers.
Characters who manipulate those around them in order
to fulfill their wants.
On paper, School Of Rock is a movie about a con and identity
theft.
A man posing as his roommate in order
to use schoolchildren to help him score a $20,000 payout.
And thanks to Jack Black, this con
became a celebration of otherness and potential.
Through the actor's charm and wonder,
the lines blurred between whether we were watching
Dewey Finn or Jack Black.
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Let's get rocking.
Director Richard Linklater has no clear line of filmmaking.
He directed experimental pictures
such as Waking Life and teen classics
like Dazed and Confused.
But in 2003, he helmed what would
become a wildly celebrated comedy that appeals
to both kids and adults.
Thanks mostly to its lead, Jack Black.
One common thread in Linklater's work
is his dedication to realism.
From his debut Slacker to the wonderful
Before trilogy, he's eschewed surrealism
in favor of believable characters and circumstances.
When casting School of Rock, he wanted real kids
playing real instruments.
Every actor is also a musician in their own right.
This takes the movie one step further
than the pantomiming performances
other films of this ilk usually track.
The screenplay was written by real life friend
and former neighbor of Black, Mike White.
White read the scripts Black was being
offered after the breakout role of High Fidelity.
And White read the same cliched roles of Belushi esque Party
Animals.
And knew his friend was capable of more.
He knew there was a unique tenderness to Black.
One that revolved around not just Black's love of music,
but the way it could transform people.
You've been focused so hard on making it,
you forgot about one little thing it's called the music.
When the movie begins, we learn that Black's character, Dewey
Finn, has been leeching off his roommate and friend Ned
Snively for years.
After a chance phone call, Dewey poses as Ned in order
to take a job as a substitute.
To begin, he is mostly going through the motions.
More than anything, he treats it like a babysitting gig.
Just a box to tick before he can collect the checks.
He tells the students he's hung over, and to just enjoy recess.
Who knows what that means?
Doesn't that mean you're drunk?
No.
It means I was drunk yesterday.
Even here though, as we watch the cliched trope
of the gruff adult who wants nothing to do with kids,
Black is still somehow likable throughout the interactions
with the more upperclass kids.
In lesser hands it might come across as manipulative.
Dewey has only ended up at the school
because he needs money to avoid being evicted.
After overhearing the kids play during music class,
he concocts a plan to put a band together in order
to win a battle of the bands.
And it's sizable cash prize.
Black is able to tap into an exhausted charm that is more
Walter Matthau in Bad News Bears than Billy Bob Thornton's
angry turn as the same character in the film's remake.
What Black understands is the idea
that these kids are not the problem.
They aren't an obstacle in his way that he must overcome.
They are simply an annoyance he must put up
with until he's paid.
That simple difference means everything.
And it makes the plot's shift into working with the children
that much more believable.
There's an infectious enthusiasm you can't help
but fall in love with.
And that's abundantly clear as he begins
to dole out roles for the band.
After piano prodigy, Lawrence, plays a few notes of The Doors
"Touch Me," Black sings along and then stops him to say--
Stop.
That's perfect.
You're perfect.
Stay right there.
There's a steady eye contact here.
A big and broad smile that makes us feel safe.
We immediately lose the thread that this moment
is a manipulation.
In the back of our minds, we may remember
that he's only putting this band together in order
to further his own ones.
But in our hearts, we know he believes that behind these 88
keys, Lawrence is perfect.
It carries on throughout the rest of the scene as well.
He brilliantly places energy riddled Freddie
behind a drum set.
And he coins what every metal head would subconsciously
reference when they answer the phone.
Chello, you've got a bass.
Try it on.
Part of what makes just this segment of the film work
is the way Dewey pivots to address every kid's want.
After Summer discovers what a groupie actually is,
Dewey immediately appeases her by promoting
her to band manager.
What is at first a means to keep her quiet
becomes a genuine working relationship
as the movie progresses.
And its inevitable end.
It's also wonderful in its endearing honesty.
Even if that honesty stems from a lie.
And for a movie like this to work,
one based around deception, we have to love the deceiver.
We sincerely love watching Dewey take care of these children.
We're not given much back story to do it.
But thanks to the entire team here, what we are given
is quick and efficient storytelling.
When the movie opens, we see Black barrel through an eye
roll inducing solo as the rest of his former band
waits for him to finish.
When his stage dive falls flat, and Dewey crashes to the floor,
we know this guy.
He's the band member who can't read the room.
He wants the crowd to experience something
only he can really see.
But in Black, we still love him.
Part of that is his relentlessness.
As a master of physical comedy, Black
has a perfect understanding of how his body moves and works.
His eyes go wide.
His smile stretches for miles.
And his weird shanty dance mixed with power stance
somehow becomes enviable.
Throughout the entire movie we're
treated to dichotomous scenes of encouragement and trickery.
Freddie, that was awesome.
You're rocking.
But it's a little sloppy Joe.
Tighten up the screws.
OK.
When singer, Tamika, confesses to Dewey
that she's nervous about being judged for her weight
during her solo, she's quickly reaffirmed by her teacher.
It's these tiny slips from exploitation
to unabashed avalanches of compliments
that only someone like Black could pull off.
And credit must be given to Linklater
in knowing the power he wielded with Black when they wanted
to use Immigrant Song for a small sequence,
everyone involved knew how hard this
would be as Led Zeppelin was infamously
standoffish in regards to their music.
So Linklater had Jack Black film a plea from the climax scene
stage in order to sway the band.
Lords of rock, Led Zeppelin.
Lords of Rock, Led Zeppelin.
Grace us with your mighty love.
We see here the blurred line between Black and Dewey.
It's easy to imagine our fictional proxy
doing the same thing.
While some actors fill their roles
with subtle nuance and gentle transitions,
Black is a rally car.
He quickly snaps gears from role model
to just another one of the kids in every sharp turn.
Part of that abruptness stems from his background
in the alternative comedy scene.
For a lot of us, Black might always
be the farmer/devil of Mr. Show with Bob in David's Barnhouse
Musical.
But the ability to move so deftly was always there.
Evident in that sketch alone as Black transition
from mawkish farmer to sin encouraging demon.
It's a skill he's mastered throughout his career.
When Black began Tenacious D with guitarist
and fellow comedian Kyle Gass, they
alternated between opening for tool and small comedy
festivals.
It's a large canvas he's painted upon because people
seem to genuinely love being around the actor.
Throughout the entire movie, he lifts those around him.
Wanting each to be a metal god just like him.
We can tell through Black's spastic performance
that he's not looking at the same world we see.
And he desperately wants to share this with us.
You're
A rock star now.
All you got to do, you just got to go out
there just rock your heart out.
People are going to dig you.
I swear.
Black and by proxy, Dewey, is forever
the kid drawing pictograms into a spiral bound notebook.
He daydreams about riding dragons over Rivers of blood
with an ax guitar hybrid simply because the words
sound so cool.
In different hands, Dewey Finn would have
been at best a loveable loser.
But in Black's hip swaying shuffle and wailing falsetto,
we have a metal God using their deification to inspire.
Let us down in the comments below some other metal
icons from your favorite movies Thanks so much for watching.
And while you're here, why not poke around the channel
to watch some of our other videos.