Ill-Informed Gadfly

“The Class” won the Golden Palm at last year’s Cannes Film Festival, and it fits the mold of many recent recipients of that honor. Like the work of the Dardenne brothers and the abortion drama “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days,” it is a social realist film with an austere, borderline ascetic style. The camera is not an expressive instrument in these movies; it merely documents unadorned reality. Such formal integrity is easier to appreciate than to love. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder why “The Class” can’t stage a single scene outside the working-class Paris high school where it’s set, especially since director Laurent Cantet doesn’t always make movies this way. His masterpiece “Heading South” was sprawling and expansive. Nonetheless, Cantet is a good fit for the material, thanks to his democratic and humanistic vision. Every student in the 9th-grade French class that he follows for a year is potentially fascinating. Many are immigrants, and Cantet effortlessly documents their bumpy assimilation into French culture. They spar with their teacher over the formal grammar he insists they learn, and they hone in on his hidden prejudices, real or perceived. Teacher Francois Begaudeau, who plays himself, comes off as dedicated, thoughtful and deeply human as he tries to find a middle ground between flexibility and discipline. “The Class” may make you feel like you’re back in high school, and if you think that doesn’t sound like much fun, I can’t argue. But that familiar feeling is a testament to its trenchant, accessible themes and its astonishing verisimilitude.