Jack Black’s trip to stardom not that easy

Jack Black’s full-blown comic presence finally arrives in the comedy School of Rock, but the trip was definitely not easy. In the past, the manic, roly-poly actor (and sometime musician in the band Tenacious D) has had his fair share of small roles in which he typically died a horrible death. Dying horribly actually became Jack Black’s "thing" in movies such as Mars Attacks, I Still Know What You Did Last Summer and The Jackal. It’s only when you accidentally come across these B-grade movies, say on off-hour cable, that you realize Black seemed to have a knack for getting killed. He played a gung-ho soldier who is sizzled by an alien death beam (while hoisting an American flag) in Mars Attacks; he played a dreadlocked hippie who is dispatched with a fishing hook while firing up a bong in I Still Know…; and he played an annoying slob used as human target practice by Bruce Willis in The Jackal.

So playing a bogus substitute school teacher who secretly instructs his pupils on the finer points of rock is definitely a step up for Mr. Black. Sure, we knew he had a manic zeal when it came to rock music – thanks to his earlier scene-stealing turn as Barry, the bullying used-record store employee in High Fidelity. Then there was the ubiquitous band Tenacious D, whose videos and TV appearances threatened to make us tire of the hyper-charged Black.

But in School of Rock, Black is in good form as Dewey Finn, fledgling rock guitarist who is kicked out of his own band, late on the rent, and a self-described loser. But he has one saving grace: he’s a loser who likes to rock. He can’t help it. It’s all part of "sticking it to The Man," as he explains to his private-school charges who wonder why there are no math books in Dewey’s class. It seems Finn has inveigled his way into a substitute teaching gig at a private school, all in the name of recruiting suitable new bandmates.

Dewey sizes up the talent in his classroom, figuring out who’s the hot guitarist, who can sing, who’s aggressive enough to play drums, and who has the classical chops to bash the keyboards. To the three less-than-talented girls left over after all the instrument spots are filled, Dewey pauses before getting a burst of inspiration: "Groupies! You’re all groupies!" Along the way, he dispenses nuggets of wisdom about attitude, correct guitar chord posture, How To Write A Rock Song and other essential lessons.

In the hands of most comic actors, this would be less than stellar stuff. After all, the plot formula of misfit kids who get to prove to their uptight parents that, hey, rock and roll ain’t so bad after all is as old as the hills. (Come to think of it, what is Dewey Finn but an updated rock version of the Julie Andrews character in The Sound of Music, leading his young proteges into a smash performance at the end?)

But scriptwriter Mike White (Chuck and Buck, The Good Girl) has a good ear for the desperate dreams of would-be rockers: he seems to know what it’s like to almost get your break, yet still be stuck in crummy bar bands most of your life, waiting for your next solo. Either that, or he’s absorbed enough of Jack Black’s feverish rock energy to do a pretty good imitation of him in the script. Clearly, this is a role written for Black, who gets to shred on vocals, hand out copies of classic rock CDs to his kids "for further study," and use words like "robotronic," and "mind-melting solo."

For his part, Richard Linklater (Before Sunrise, Dazed and Confused) directs with an unfussy style, focusing on the characters and their banter, all the while gearing up for the requisite "big gig" at the end of the film. (All along, you see, Black has been training these kids so he’ll have a kick-ass backup outfit for the local "battle of the bands.") The fun surprise is that the kids actually do perform well at the end, each getting a little star turn (and each receiving a bonus encore during the final credit sequence, where the band is seen jamming spontaneously with Black on AC/DC’s It’s A Long Way to the Top.)

The other fun surprise is that School of Rock manages to be a G-rated entertainment (Black’s usual sex, drugs and profanity are nowhere in sight) while still coming across as subtly, sweetly subversive. The message about hanging on to your individuality and dreams in a pressurizing world doesn’t have to be oversold, because it comes across loud and clear in the kids’ playing, and in Jack Black’s irrepressible energy.