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The Emperor's Club was originally going to be called The Palace Thief, after
the Ethan Canin short story upon which it's based, but the film's producers
must have reasoned, "Heck, we've already ripped off Dead Poet's Society; we
may as well pinch its name, too" (rumor has it that another suggested title
was Mr. Hundert's Opus). Both pictures are set at exclusive New England
prep schools and are about unique teachers molding previously uninterested
students into stone-cold learning machines. Instead of using poetry to get
the kids riled up about life, Kevin Kline's William Hundert is a professor
of Western Civilization
I disliked Club almost immediately, and anyone with an ounce of cinematic self-respect should feel the same. When the opening scene showed an artificially aged Hundert with a wistful look on his mug as he stared off into space, it was all I could do to keep myself from standing up, shaking my fist at the screen and screaming, "Don't you do it, you bastard!" The "it" I'm referring to is, of course, the narrative reminiscing, which will swallow us into one long flashback and then poop us back out into the present. But before I could get to my feet, Hundert had already started with his "As I've gotten older" recounting.
As feared, we're taken back to 1972, where Hundert is both a teacher and a
housemaster at St. Benedict's School for Boys. He specializes, apparently,
in spewing a lot of profoundly irritating things that instantly put teenage
boys at the ready. Like most movies about teachers, Hundert's students
don't like him at first, but he slowly grows on them, both as a friend and
an educator
Conflict arises upon the arrival of Sedgewick Bell (Emile Hirsch, The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys), a new student who is all sneer and attitude, and who also just happens to be the much-neglected son of a US Senator from West Virginia (Harris Yulin, Training Day). Bell's contempt for authority earns the respect of three other students, to whom he introduces pornography (didn't they do this in Society, too?). Has Hundert finally met his match? Will both he and Bell learn a little something about life when they're done butting heads? After all, they're both suffering from the Please Love Me, Daddy complex, as Hundert still lives in the shadow of his father, who was a famous author. Jesus, you can practically write your own spoof of the trailer voiceover - "One needs to loosen up; the other needs to buckle down."
Club doesn't fail so much as it just doesn't even bother trying. It plays like a CBS Movie of the Week. Forget the abandoned subplots involving Rob Morrow and Embeth Davidtz (the latter of whom appeared as confused as I was about the point of her character's existence), and the bizarre Julius Caesar competition (What the hell? Is it open to the whole school? Why does it only include the material Hundert teaches?) - what's with Club's message? Best I can tell, it's that lying and cheating might make you rich, powerful, happy and attractive, but being honest makes you feel sooo good on the inside. Meanwhile, back in reality, t only thing that might warm my heart is riding the carcasses of writer Neil Tolkin (of Licensed to Drive, Richie Rich and Jury Duty fame) and director Michael Hoffman (who ruined Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream) down a large, snowy mountain.
When Roger Ebert reviewed Society, he said Robin Williams' character was "more of a plot device than a human being." But you can understand why Williams' students fell under his spell - he was an exciting teacher who instilled passion into his charges. Hundert acts like he runs on batteries. He's the straightest, stick-up-the-ass arrow not played by Denzel Washington. Here's to hoping "Hail, Caesar!" doesn't replace "O Captain, my Captain!" in your movie mythology.
1:49 - PG-13 for some sexual content
========== X-RAMR-ID: 33706 X-Language: en X-RT-ReviewID: 814724 X-RT-TitleID: 1116124 X-RT-SourceID: 595 X-RT-AuthorID: 1146 X-RT-RatingText: 3/10
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