Mr.Hollands Opus

And in fact, this film is a two and a half hour parade of stereotypes equaled only by the seven dwarves. It's the thinking man's Forrest Gump, and the crowning achievement of screenwriter and cliché master Patrick Duncan. I rarely remember who said something first, but I can guarantee you Patrick Duncan said it last. Look for the shy student who learns self-confidence, the devoted wife who stands by her man, the dumb-but-honest kid who dies for his country, the small town kid with big city talent who risks everything for a shot at Broadway, the dedicated educators, the bureaucrats who stand in their way... lay the beans on your card and you can hit bingo before the denouement.

But wait.

I saw this film for just one reason: to see how badly they handled the Deaf character. In Hollywood, Deaf characters slide along a sorry continuum between the shy and melancholic, and the isolated and hostile, all symbolic, none bearing any similarity to any actual Deaf person I've ever met. Hearing people have no idea what Deaf people are actually like. The community of Deaf people in America is tight, it's vibrant, it's joyful, and every child born Deaf in America has this tremendous society just waiting to embrace it. But this isn't common knowledge among hearing America, who can only imagine themselves, suddenly cut off auditorily from the world they know, and so they project this onto characters they don't know, and create a sad stereotype with no basis whatsoever in reality.

Anyway, so I walked into Mr. Holland's Opus already composing in my head the nasty things I could say in a review, but lo, this film-- once I found a poison ivy ointment that actually worked, and the relief I felt when the itching immediately subsided, THAT is how I felt watching this film. The Deaf kid is funny, bright, fights with his parents, and likes cars and science. Among all the symboloids that cross this film, the Deaf kid is the only real, three dimensional person. That has a lot of bearing on the actual lives of actual Deaf people.

Since I was working as a sign language interpreter at the time, people kept asking me "Have you seen Mr. Holland's Opus?" and I'd say "Yes," and then they'd say "How realistic is it that this kid has a musician father? How many Deaf people have parents like Mr. Holland?"

And I'd answer "All of them."

Seriously. Take a guy who listens to news in his car, who doesn't own a CD player, tell him his child is Deaf, and suddenly he's weeping that junior will never hear the melodious strains of "Mozart." He pronounces it to rhyme with "Beaux arts."

So Glen Holland is the symbolic, universal parent-of-Deaf-child. This time around hearing people are the symbols, and the Deaf kid is the one who is real.

It's about time.

The movie starts out in the 1964-1965 school year. Mr. Glen Holland (Richard Dreyfus) plays a musician forced to table his musical career for economic reasons. His wife is pregnant and he has to find stable work. An opening for a music teacher at the former Grant High School (now Kennedy) in Oregon has become available. Mr. Holland applies for and gets the job.

Reluctant to put his dream on the back burner, Mr. Holland enters the classroom. He is confronted with an array of students ranging from naturally talented to tone deaf. After initially getting nowhere with his pupils, Mr. Holland tries a new approach. He encourages them to talk about the music they like and uses this as a way of establishing an interest in music. One young clarinetist catches his attention and he works 1x1 with the girl, extracting hard work and talent for her. He helps her find her voice. He tells her that he can "teach her music and notes on the page," but as for "all that other stuff," he cannot teach. It has to be felt. ....

The movie does an excellent and convincing job of covering a three-decade time span. One of my favorite scenes was when Mr. Holland borrowed the Driver's Ed class' 1965 Dodge Coronet (an especially cool car) and drove it like the proverbial bat ...

The movie is really about love. Love for music, love for people and love for the best people have to offer. The high school coach who befriends Mr. Holland early in his teaching career helps him work with his pupils in marching band drills. The coach also helps the administration continue their tradition of hosting school shows....

I really love this movie. I even bought the tape. It is a loving work of genuine art.

There is a lot to be said for understatement, but Steven Herek doesn't seem to think the American movie-going public is sophisticated enough to catch the subtle hints that that entails. We get bonked over the head with newsreels - Lyndon Johnson's voice emerges inexplicably to tell us we are in the Vietnam era, one stop along the way in the tumultuous times of Mr. Holland - and the signposts keep coming till we find him in the present, convincingly aged. (The make-up is the singularly impressive feature of this film.) Victim of the perennial jostling of education priorities for budgetary reasons, Mr Holland finds that his services are no longer required. An extravagant surprise farewell party is held for him in the school auditorium with everyone but the President and the Pope there to tell him what a difference he had made in their lives. To conclude matters, it had been arranged that the composition he had been working on all these years would make its world premiere under the unrehearsed baton of the composer himself, much to his surprise and delight. Thankfully, the movie does not go on to show us how Mr Holland has an accident or finds himself with a fatal heart condition to prolong our embarrassment in this tale that aims for the heart, but collides with the digestive tract.

There are some interesting ironies and issues dealt with this movie. Here is Mr.Holland, a music teacher, whose only son is deaf. Here is Mr. Holland the dedicated professional who is so immersed in helping other people that he has neglected his own family. Here is Mr. Holland, the man, who has been tempted to run off with one of his pupils - an adoring and talented beauty. Every aspect of the teaching psyche is addressed, from the sense of public duty to the suppression of the most private passions - all well and good. But what do we get instead? A movie that is almost a parody of itself.

Movie's worst moment for me was surely where Dreyfuss as Holland sings John Lennon's "Beautiful Boy" to his son in front of a large audience of deaf college students. He had had a falling out with his boy and this was his attempt - a successful one - at making amends. The director tries to push too many buttons with this scene, however, as Lennon had just been slain at this time. There is also the point to be made that deaf people do possess an ability to appreciate music and musicians, thank you. Again, important messages, but they are so sugar-coated you find yourself looking for a toothbrush in the middle of the flick.

If overly sentimental movies with inordinately lavish soundtracks don't bother you, then by all means this is a movie for you. (Most of the reviewers here are obviously happy with that kind of flick.) If they do bother you, forget it. If for some reason you find yourself watching this because there's no way out, you may need a six-pack or two to deaden the pain.