Les Choristes

There's an air of romance surrounding wayward boys, particularly in the French tradition, where they tend to be poetic as well as mischievous. In "The Chorus," Christophe Barratier draws on this tradition and adds some lovely vocal sounds. "The Chorus" is about an "internat" or reform school where a new principal who writes music tames his young charges, some naughty, some just abandoned, by teaching them to sing in a boys' chorus. The school director, Rachin (sounds like Nurse Ratched), François Berléand (of Jacquot's "The School of Flesh"), is a prissy sadist who preaches a philosophy of instant punishment for all real or imagined wrongdoing ("action-reaction"); but when the new principal, Clément Mathieu (Gérard Jugnot) shows up with a soft approach to his classes and his supervisory duties, he finds allies among the faculty and staff.

"The Chorus" advances the frequently screened theory that delinquent kids are better charmed than chastened; that if you can find a positive activity they excel in, the misbehavior will die out.

Barratier has had good success with his young actors. The most important boy is the "tête d'ange" (head of an angel), tall, fair-haired Morhange (Jean-Baptiste Maunier), who's often in trouble and refuses to join the choir, till Mathieu catches him singing by himself and discovers his star soloist. Morhange's voice possesses not only a rich natural musicality but the haunting purity only boy sopranos have. Morhange has the most attractive mother, and Mathieu's success in encouraging the boy's singing makes the pudgy, bald man fantasize romance with her -- thus incidentally clearing himself of the suspicion of pedophilia that tends to haunt any all-boys school setting. Mathieu's romantic dream is futile, and he humbly fades away at the story's end, like some Gallic pied piper of boy soprano-dom.

"The Chorus" takes place in post-war France and its topic and look establish immediate links with a bevy of seminal French films. Wayward French boys turn up in boarding schools that are places of both repression and refuge, as you can see in Jean Vigo's school revolution in "Zero for Conduct" (1933). The beloved textbook of the French bad-boy tradition is Alain-Fournier's "Le Grand Meaulnes" (The Wanderer), which was notably filmed by Jean-Pierre Albicocco in 1967. The tradition becomes more autobiographical in Truffaut's 1959 400 Blows, which introduced the director's alter ego, Jean-Pierre Léaud; and in Malle's moving and long-contemplated memoir of a boarding school in wartime, "Au Revoir les Enfants" (1987). Jean Cocteau mythologized a bad-boy idol who haunted him all his life in the Dargélos of "Les Enfants Terribles" (1950), made into yet another classic film by Jean-Pierre Melville. This whole idea has remaining traces in the feral youth Gaspard Ulliel plays in André Téchiné's recent "Strayed." "The Chorus," it is true, is a relatively conventional entry; except for adding music, it rides upon, rather than transcends, the tradition. But it's a warm story with much charm and little pretension.

Barratier himself is a talented musician who, like Mathieu, has drifted into other things. A trained classical guitarist, he won several international competitions after studying at the prestigious École Normale de Musique in Paris, and played professionally for several years. But in 1991 he joined Galatée films to train under his uncle, the renowned actor, producer and writer Jacques Perrin -- who bookends "The Chorus" as a Morhange who has grown up into a famous classical conductor. For the next decade Barratier was an associate producer and collaborated with Perrin on "Children of Lumière," "Microcosmos," "Himalaya" and "Winged Migration." Now he has turned his hand to fiction and directed his own film, with success. There is a risk of preciosity and sweetness, mostly avoided by the dryness of both Mathieu and Rachin as characters, as well as the surviving wickedness of the boys, especially an arch bad-boy, Mondain (Grégory Gatignol). The point of view is Mathieu's and the mature Morhange's, so the film doesn't go as deep into the boys' psyches as it goes into their voice boxes.

The director is well connected. He's the son of film actress Eva Simonet and besides his uncle his grandparents were also theater people. The Chorus was top box office in France after its release in March 2004. The French critical reception was pretty mixed, and the film's been reviled by some in the United States as (in one writer's words) "unbelievably inane, saccharine, and derivative"; "all smooth, nutrient-free clichés." Even thumbs-up king Roger Ebert didn't like it: "this feels more like a Hollywood wannabe than a French film," he wrote. "Where's the quirkiness, the nuance, the deeper levels?" But it's really a cleanly made, simple, humanistic, and satisfying little film with far less pandering than its critics claim, and whether we like it or not, it's the French Best Foreign Oscar entry, and the little chorus is likely to perform " Vois sur ton chemin" on Awards night (if their voices haven't changed). The relatively minimal mise-en-scène and the period setting link it more with its classic film antecedents than with the overproduced "Very Long Engagement" (Jeunet's film's Oscar nominations are for décor and photography). Derivative and conventionally themed? Yes. Barratier has acknowledged "The Chorus's" inspiration in an earlier film, "La Cage aux Rossignols" (The Nightingales' Cage, 1945), which has the same premise -- and anyone can name a long list of movies about teachers who charm their wayward flock. None of them feels -- or sounds -- quite like this movie, though. And the boys do their own singing: the "tête d'ange" really has the "voix d'ange." American reviewers, missing the nuances, plug Les Choristes into "Mr. Holland's Opus" or "Dead Poets Society" and find it stereotypically schmaltzy. The gentler French critics don't see those crude comparisons and are able to call it "un beau film" and find in it a satisfying example of "cinéma populaire." We can too if we open up to it.

By getting nominated for Academy Awards in both the Foreign Language Film and Best Song categories, Les Choristes (The Chorus) made a rare (for a European film) double impression at the 2004 Oscars. This sentimental tale follows the arrival of a new teacher at a remote boys school in 1949 France (the war is a largely unspoken but ghostly presence). With disciplinary problems rampant, and the policies of the old-fashioned headmaster not helping, Monsieur Mathieu decides to introduce choral singing as a way to bridge the gap with his students. You don't need a crystal ball to figure out where this will go, although the movie uses its atmospheric location and lush vocal arrangements well. Bald, dumpy Gerard Jugnot provides a refreshingly offbeat hero (though securely in the traditions of the My Most Memorable Teacher movie); he's sort of a younger Philippe Noiret. Director Christophe Barratier works in the winsome-cute mode that makes a certain kind of French movie into an overly sweet Bone Bone, although at least this Bone Bone sings.

Two Continental European films with campus setting are on show right now in town: Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar's "La mala educación" and French director Christophe Barratier's "Les choristes". However, the former deals with the devil which is pretty disturbing while the latter the angels that touches the viewers' heart and soul. It blows in new fresh air into the cinema world.

People may associate the film with the 1945 production "La cage aux rossignols". Yet, "Au revoir les enfants", "La gloire de mon père", "Le château de ma mere", "Nuovo cinema Paradiso" and the literature namely "Le Petit Chose" by Alphonse Daudet and the hugely popular series of René Goscinny's "Le Petit Nicolas" were rushing into my head when the film rolled on. They all share a number of common features: younger carefree days, reminiscence, scenic countryside, pastoral living etc, they are all ingredients of French fresh (salad) movie, warm, humane and unforgettable. The genre is perpetually popular and it is ever-lasting. Strangely the subject matter though is related to "To Sir, with Love", "Mr. Holland's Opus", they didn't come up to my mind immediately.

French people are capable of producing movies or books with nostalgic ideas, the power again captures the world's heart. A country with long history or brilliant history provides much space for artists, France is one of them. Perhaps the French have no incentive to push forward like the Brits or Americans or they are pessimistic about the future or they lack funds, many the French artists (of various art form) keep looking into history for inspiration. Many French global blockbusters are filmed in nostalgic background setting, "Amélie" is the one in the 50s or early 60s. Cruelly truthful is if we compare the development (in most areas) of the developed nations on the west and east Atlantic coasts, the UK and the USA are exactly more advanced.

Pierre, Pépinot, Le Querrec, spectacled Boniface and all the other children form not only a choir but an angelic choir. The boys' angelic voices has resounded inside my head for pretty long time. The angels rekindle Clément Mathieu's abandoned hope on music and hope again falls onto these young souls. On top of it, he is the unsung hero on the making of the world famous conductor Pierre Morhange. Mondain, apparently sexually harassed, is not a incurable boy but a boy in his quest for love. Mathieu wants to carry out his "experiment" on him. And the young boy knows the class tutor is a kind and reasonable teacher. His smile to Mathieu before he is pulled away by the police tells it all.

Mathieu believes in moral education (or educating children in love) which is entirely different from iron-handed Rachin's hard-line pedagogical conviction and administration. Should time be given, Mondain would find his way out from the excruciating self-destruction. Just a side thought: Hong Kong educators should have more thought on dealing with "problem students", from time to time what these young people need is a tender light guiding them onto a path which they can have satisfaction and security. Well, we are somehow regressing now.

200 people were attending this movie in the theater, when the light went back after the movie was finished, nobody had moved, all the eyes were red. When Jean-Baptiste sings, it just takes you by your guts. The story is fantastic, the music is magic, Jugnot is expectedly grandiose... The picture itself is made "à la" 50s, it's very special but truly desserves the highest awards. I cannot give anything below 10 here. I swear you'll love this movie, if you don't, get back to your pop corn bucket and go and watch that Riddick sh1te, at least you'll get what you desserve.

...

As a public school choir director I was thrilled to see a movie that celebrated the joy of singing. At the end of the semester I ran "The Chorus" for all of my students and the response was astounding. A French film with subtitles that kept the rehearsal room totally silent for two days of classes. Fantastic.

I sincerely hope this fine film is given an honest opportunity to succeed in the U.S. We don't need a Disney remake in English with updated pop songs. This charming import is the real deal.

As a teacher I always trust the sometimes brutal honesty that high school students express about films and music. My experience this semester has been that "The Chorus" is a winner.

If you like this movie recommend it to others as it deserves to find its audience.