Directed by Jan Hřebejk
Written by Petr Jarchovský
Showing at the Museum of Fine
Arts,
Boston, thru November 29
Jan Hřebejk and Petr Jarchovský’s new film, The
Teacher, tells an age-old
story of totalitarian abuse, this time in the setting of a middle school in 1983
Czechoslovakia, then under communist rule. The children start the school year
with their new teacher, Mária Drazdechová (award-winning Zuzana Mauréry),
and thus begins a horrendous odyssey for both the children and their parents,
as Drazdechová invidiously hijacks their lives. From day one, she works through
the children to obtain services from their parents—medicines, luxury foods,
taxi rides, and even a hoped-for lover. She rewards students whose parents
comply by providing tips on the next day’s quiz. The children of refusers
receive failing grades and otherwise fall victim to her lies and bullying. She
accuses young Karol of distributing food vouchers obtained through his “disgraced
mother” who defected to the West, and she claims Filip’s father sexually assaulted
her.
Normally such stories of blackmail
and political corruption involve adults who find themselves powerless to fight
the system, for any protest means loss of a job, imprisonment, or even execution—all
under false charges. In The Teacher, the
drama is intensified because the victims are children. In her classroom, Drazdechová
singles out three non-compliers—Danka, Filip, and Karol—for her sadistic
treatment, with Danka eventually attempting suicide and the boys erupting with their
suppressed trauma. Throughout her torture and machinations, Drazdechová maintains
a sweet, baby-faced manner—all innocence—which adds to her evil.
The movie’s excellent, knitted construction
helps develop the characters, especially the three families who decide to take
a stand against Drazdechová. During the film’s opening credits, we watch lively
children arriving to a communist-era school, and then, at night, we see somber adults
filing into the same building. At first it seems the adults have come for night
school, but once the action starts, we learn they have come for a meeting on
whether or not to sign a petition to remove Drazdechová as a teacher. The
school’s “head teacher” runs the meeting, having received a parental complaint.
We soon learn, however, that she knows all about Drazdechová and hopes that at
last an opportunity has come to be rid of her.
The story moves back and forth from the
parents’ tense meeting room to flashbacks of Drazdechová’s connivances with both
children and parents. Some of the parents who support Drazdechová—who also
heads the school’s communist party organization—benefit from the party as
judges, doctors, and bureaucrats. They toe the party line. Most of the
working-class parents support Drazdechová because they want their kids to
receive good grades in return for small services, such as hairdressing. This
movement back and forth from a pseudo jury room to Drazdechová’s real-life
persecution of her victims creates depth, drama, and balance in the film. We
come to know the characters intimately—including their names—Kucera, Binder,
Littman. We feel a strong urge to be in the deliberation room with them, so
that we can battle the despicably dishonest people in control and lend a hand
to those who insist on the truth. Which side will triumph?
An epilogue concludes the movie—a moral
to the story. Communism has ended with the Velvet Revolution. Havel’s picture
has replaced Husák’s in a middle-school classroom. What we’re shown in one
quick scene is both ludicrous and true: You can’t stop evil—it just finds a new
place to park, and the fight to rout it out has to start all over again.
