Character Education and Film
 
 
The Emperor's Club
 
  Review by Kevin Ryan, Director Emeritus of the CAEC  
   
  Review by Karen Bohlin, Executive Director of the CAEC
   
  Review by Eli H. Newberger, M.D, the author of The Men They Will Become: The Nature and Nurture of Male Character
   
Spiderman
 
  Review by Susan Young, Hyde School in Bath, ME
 
We welcome your suggestions for films that can be integrated into classroom discussions of ethics and character. Please email your recommendations to caec@bu.edu.
 
The Emperor's Club
Review by Kevin Ryan, Director Emeritus, CAEC
 
Films about high school are becoming as ubiquitous as twenty-something sitcoms. With a few exceptions [Mr. Holland's Opus and the Dead Poet's Society], they invariably portray high schools and their classrooms as adolescent playgrounds overseen by banal and inept misfits masquerading as teachers. The Emperor's Club is a welcome departure for these teenager fantasy-feeding embarrassments. It is, believe it or not, about education. Indeed, it is about the school's oldest and most critical mission, the education of character.
 
Kevin Kline plays the film's central character, Mr. Hundert, the Western Civilization teacher and assistant headmaster of St. Benedict's, a prep school for privileged boys. The plot centers on Mr. Hundert's moral struggles with a new student, the son of a powerful and arrogant senator. The boy is rebellious but charismatic and gradually undermines Mr. Hundert's class and the strict discipline of the school.
 
The movie takes place in two time periods, separated by twenty-five years, presumably the mid-70s and the present. The key incident is an annual contest among the Western Civilization students run by Hundert to award a valued prize given to the student who publicly demonstrates the greatest mastery of the ancient world. Bell, the corrupt student, cheats and Hundert, who in the midst of the contest realizes it, is told by the headmaster to ignore it. Twenty-five years later, when Bell is rich and successful, and about to launch his own senatorial run, he brings his former teacher and classmates together for a reenactment of the contest and to secure the support of his friends for his campaign.
 
Behind this engaging plot, however, is a refreshing picture of what high school education ought to be: a forging of intellectual growth and character formation. Mr. Hundert's classroom is a small universe where students engage the world's wisdom and where they are challenged to moral greatness. Mr. Hundert comfortably and completely embodies the Socratic ideal of the teacher: to help students become both smart and good, people of both intellect and character. In a key scene with Bell's senator father, the senator asks Hundert what he thinks he is doing. Surprised, Hundert says he is concerned with the formation of the boy's character. The senator dismissively tells Hundert to just give him the facts and he'll take care of his son's character. In this, the film captures the emptiness of so much of American education, where education has been reduced to a meritocratic transfer of information and teachers are reduced to mere facilitators of the process.
 
While an engaging and well acted film, The Emperor's Club serves larger purposes: it reminds us what a noble profession teaching can be and what the essence of an education is all about.
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The Emperor's Club
Review by Karen Bohlin, Executive Director of the CAEC
 
Set in the 1970s at St Benedict’s, a private New England prep school for boys, Universal Pictures’ new film, The Emperor’s Club, stars Kevin Kline as the straight-laced bachelor classics teacher, Mr. Hundert, who meets his match in the savvy son of a senator, Sedgwick Bell, played marvelously by Emile Hirsch. Heraclitus’ famous words "character is destiny" are borne out as the students in Hundert’s class vie to place in the school’s longstanding Julius Caesar competition.
 
A different tale altogether from Dead Poets Society, The Emperor’s Club moves well beyond the tumult of adolescent rebellion and aspiration into the world of the high school-student-become-adult. The film is as much about Hundert and his reflections on what it means to be a teacher as it is about Sedgewick, his dramatic foil. The central challenge for both is the extent to which they can shape their successes and failures through the choices they make. Without being moralistic, Emperor’s Club invites us to examine the influence of those choices on a person’s life and legacy.
 
There is little heartwarming schmaltz in Emperor’s Club. While the classroom scenes take us back in time, replete with sage insights from ancient Greece and Rome, the drama thrusts us into present day and the concerns pressing for our collective attention
 
The themes evoked in The Emperor’s Club raise timely and provocative questions that merit consideration from parents, teachers, politicians, and corporate America. The Emperor’s Club is not only a compelling story but also a worthy case study in ethics. Hollywood has produced an important film, one that is both engaging and instructive.
 
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The Emperor's Club
Eli H. Newberger, M.D is the author of The Men They Will Become: The Nature and Nurture of Male Character (Perseus Books, 1999) and is on the faculty of the Department of Pediatrics at Harvard Medical School.
When I was in eighth grade, my friends Jimmy Scagnelli, Perry Martin, and I cut a class. After an hour of hanging out in the band room, playing various instruments, and talking about girls, we tried to slip back in before the lunch break, but Mrs. Buchar wasn’t as inattentive as we thought. She promised there’d be hell to pay. Before the day was out, our parents had been called, and I arrived home to find my mother in a state of bewilderment. Her wonderful son, she had been told, was on the straight path to becoming a criminal, and she was expected early the next morning in the Traphagen Junior High principal’s office to plan a different life for me.
 
A few years later, working as a summer temp for the Mt. Vernon, NY post office after my sophomore year at Yale, I noticed Mrs. Buchar’s name in a bank of apartment mailboxes and knocked on her door. Resisting the temptation to remind her of her failed prediction, I introduced myself as her former student. She said she was grateful for the visit because, since retiring two years before, she no longer had regular contact with kids. All the miscreants turned out fine: Perry became a high school music teacher, Jimmy a union leader, and I’m a pediatrician. We weren’t from privileged backgrounds, just solidly middle-class second-generation suburbanites. Nothing was assured for us, and we knew we had to work hard to succeed in life.
 
But I have changed my mind about the seeming over-reaction by Mrs. Buchar and the Traphagen School principal. Even more now than before, minor transgressions like these should not go unnoticed; as ridiculous as it seemed for Mrs. Buchar to hang crepe about our future careers when we were only 13, ninth grade is a make-or-break time for boys, current research indicates. If they are behind a grade, had experience with sex or drugs, suffered or witnessed serious violence, they are likely to be on a "failure track" unless someone steps in to help. And mostly someone doesn’t.
 
In the interviews I conducted as part of the research I did for my book on boys’ character development, I was saddened to hear high-functioning boys make comments like these: "But his parents kind of let him do what he wants. They’re sort of afraid of him." "Some of my friends’ parents aren’t there for them, so they actually tell me their stuff, and I feel really bad. Their parents aren’t there because they’re working or because there isn’t a relationship or connection between them and their kids. They let things go. Most of my friends are in that predicament. Some of the parents that are around just don’t care. The kids will smoke dope in the house and stuff like that. One kid says his parents don’t even know he does it; if he does get caught, he gets grounded for a week, and that’s it."
 
I have my own prescription for strengthening the characters of American boys–including relationships, where every boy has at least one adult in his life who is just crazy about him, will stick with him and not abandon him; protection from violence; an emotional vocabulary; and giving back high among them–to which I would add one more after seeing the movie "The Emperor’s Club." If American boys from 8 to 18 could see this film and talk about it with their classmates and families, and then try to carry its moral consciousness forward into their lives and choices, they and we would all be the better for it.
 
The movie tells the story of a group of boys from wealthy families who find themselves in an ancient history class with a celebrated teacher. But their expensive sports coats and fine future expectations don’t shelter them–and don’t protect their teacher from–some important key choices. In this gorgeous private school these boys buck against the same hormones, temptations, and restrictions as flowed through Perry, Jimmy, and my veins and lives when we were 13. Decisions and choices, where character is tested, and manifested, present themselves innocently and not-so-innocently. And mistakes are made, by the boys, of course, and by the adults, who you’d think would know better.
 
What’s so exciting about the movie is the way it resonates to virtually every context in which male character is put to test: in the classroom, the locker room, the executive suite, and the hallowed halls of highest institutions of democracy. The resonance comes from the way the story is told, with contemporary, real-time challenges, and teachers’ and parents’ responses to them. Sex, substances, and cheating to get ahead figure in both the children's and adults’ stories. Flash-forwards to a reunion of "The Emperor’s Club" give a lively and vivid sense of what the better choices might have been.
 
There’s no preaching here, excepting a few depictions of the familiar "do what I say, not what I do" approach to bringing up children that so often serves to "enable" (to use the medical term of art) dishonesty, misogyny, and alcohol and substance abuse. What there is is a terrific story, lots of splendid acting, and much to talk about. Importantly, there are moral ambiguities here, choices that are right for some reasons and wrong for others. The lack of easy solutions and conclusions in a morally ambiguous world is what makes this movie compelling, and so worth discussing.
 
I wish that when I cut that class in eighth grade this movie had been around and that my class, my family, and I had been required to see it and talk about it. That would have been a lot more productive than the scolding, and would have appreciated better that those simple rules had some real meaning for our lives.
 
When my wife Carolyn received her doctorate at Harvard, the President of the University uttered a little, traditional encomium for each of the graduate schools as their new graduates stood up to take their positions of leadership. I was prompted by the beauty of this film and its deep message on character to recall the words said to the new graduates of the law school. They were joining, the President intoned, the profession that governs "those wise restraints that keep us free."
 
Character is all about choice. This movie gives boys, men, and the people who care about them some splendid guidance about why we should, and can, make good choices, and when we make mistakes, to try, with better perspective, support, and above all a desire to do right by others, to improve our acts. All kids have a built-in sense of fairness and want and need discipline. And all of us, they know, and we should know, are works in progress. "The Emperor’s Club" makes clear that real freedom is found in respecting the rules that descend from our democratic and faith traditions, and in approaching with consideration and kindness each moral challenge where we have to reconcile our desires and impulses against the needs and rights of others.
 
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Spiderman
Susan Young, Hyde School in Bath, ME offers the following scene as a great prompt for reflecting on the power of choice:
 
Our Hero lets the robber go because he's mad at the man who runs the wrestling matches for not paying him the full $3000. When confronted with, "You let him go!" Spiderman responds, "I guess I missed the part where that's my problem." He then exits the building only to find that his uncle has been shot and killed in a carjacking--by the very thief he just let escape him.
 
Here at Hyde, we run on a concept called "Brother's Keeper"--the notion that we are all responsible for nurturing/fostering/supporting/challenging each other's best. We are responsible for upholding the right, even when we feel we've been wronged. We make it "our problem" when someone else in class isn't doing his/her homework, or is misbehaving in the dorm. The results of NOT engaging in that kind of partnership with our fellow students/colleagues are too costly to imagine, as Spiderman finds out.
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Copyright 2002
Center for the Advancement of Ethics and Character