FREEDOM WRITERS

I know what you’re thinking.

You’re thinking, “Oh for the love of all that is holy, give me a freakin’ BREAK! Another preachy Hollywood movie about a white teacher going against the grain to `save’ a class full of delinquent minority students? It’s the same tired story being told over and over and over again, only this time it stars tough-girl Hilary Swank. No thanks!”

And I know that’s probably what you’re thinking because I thought the exact same thing myself. I had little interest in seeing the film at all, and had been referring to it as Dangerous Minds v. 2.0.

But even though you may think this movie is going to be lame, derivative, Lifetime-TV tripe, I’m here to say: think again. Freedom Writers is, in fact, a wonderfully heartfelt and well-done film that features more than a few moments of fantastic acting from its lead actress and her co-stars. Believe me, no one was more shocked than I was that I enjoyed this film so much, and now that I’ve seen it and been moved by it, I’m going to stand on my little cyber-soapbox to make sure you give it a fair shake.

Based on the true story of teacher Erin Gruwell, the film tracks her through several tumultuous years at Woodrow Wilson High School in Long Beach, Ca., in the mid-1990s. Decked out in her suburban finest, with a string of pearls around her neck, Erin (Swank) arrives on her first day like Wisteria Lane’s Bree Van De Kamp, all sunshine and roses and optimism oozing from every perky pore. She wants to Make a Difference. She wants to Teach the Unteachable. She’s got noble goals and she’s not afraid to share them. Her seasoned-veteran of a supervisor, Margaret (Imelda Staunton), knows a naïve idealist when she sees one, and cautions her inexperienced new charge that the freshman students she’ll have are basically lost causes. Criminals. Degenerates. Illiterate. Destined to be drop-outs if they’re not killed in gang-related violence first.

And, really, Margaret is half-right: the teenagers in Erin’s class are very clearly divided by race and gang loyalties, and are on the road to dropping out thanks to their apathetic instructors and the hopelessness that’s been drilled into their young minds. The inside of the classroom mirrors the deadly turf wars of the streets: Hispanics on one side, Cambodians on another, black students near the back and the lone white guy sitting, panicked, in the center of the room. It’s life and death for these kids, on a daily basis, and they view the world with fear, anger and resentment. Not surprisingly, Erin is met with a wall of resistance from her pupils the minute she sets foot in the classroom. What could she possibly know about their lives or their struggles, they challenge her, and how dare she presume to think that she can do anything to improve their lot in life? One particular student – a combative young woman named Eva (April Lee Hernandez), who’s ready to throw down at the drop of a hat or the flash of gang sign – narrates the film and grounds it for the audience while serving as one of Erin’s staunchest opponents. With a troubled past and a present steeped in danger, Eva’s not interested in what Erin’s peddling…and, for that matter, neither is anyone else in the class.

But where this film differs from others in its genre (and, let’s be honest, there are plenty of teacher-student flicks out there to serve as precedents) is in its demonstration that it’s the students who save themselves, with Erin serving as a mere catalyst. The students do the work, the students decide to change, the students want more for themselves and the students put in the blood, sweat and tears to move beyond the limits that have been imposed upon them. It all begins with a simple journal assignment, wherein Erin – determined to get these kids to write something, anything!, and to be invested in their own education – simply provides them with a tool: blank notebooks in which they can write whatever they choose. Once a day.

With that, and the “permission” to express themselves, the floodgates of change open, with the students are off and running before Erin can catch her breath. Of course, roadblocks spring up along the way, not the least of which are funding issues, the reluctance of a world-weary administration and Erin’s at-home struggles to balance her blossoming career with the demands of her marriage to her feeling-slighted husband (Patrick Dempsey). But, through it all, the students’ tenacity and Erin’s refusal to give up persist.

Writer-director Richard LaGravanese, using the real-life compilation of essays from Gruwell’s students to mold the film’s narrative, takes an oft-seen scenario and manages to create something lovely. He opted to cast unknowns as the students and chose wisely, assembling a great group of young actors led by the heartbreakingly good Hernandez, who goes toe-to-toe with Swank numerous times and almost always steals the show. For her part, Swank delivers true moments of subtle greatness in her performance…scenes where, just for a few minutes, you sit back and forget about The Core or The Affair of the Necklace or The Black Dahlia, and remember why the Academy awarded her a Best Actress statuette twice.

Are there clichéd elements at work in the film? I won’t lie to you: yes, there are. But, as a wise friend once pointed out to me, sometimes you can employ a cliché in a story and still make it soar. So, expect the familiar scenes (tough kid at school is beaten at home, cold shoulders melting, bitter teachers being naysayers, etc.) and structural arc (we hate you, this is hard, we love you), but also expect to find yourself sniffling and grabbing for the Kleenex. I dare you not to cry at least twice during this film, and I dare you not to want to tell people how good it is once you finish watching.