The Penguin Lessons Review: An Uneven but Well-Intentioned Adaptation

Set in 1970s Argentina, The Penguin Lessons tells the heartwarming yet poignant story of an English teacher and the unexpected bond he forms with a rescued penguin. Director Peter Cattaneo brings us the tale of Tom Michell, played by Steve Coogan, a man arriving in Buenos Aires to teach at a private school. But amidst the political turmoil of the Dirty War, Tom finds an unlikely companion in the form of a penguin washed ashore.

After saving the injured bird, Tom at first tries sending the penguin on its way. Yet it refuses to leave his side. Reluctantly, Tom comes to care for the animal, soon naming him Juan Salvador. Through their interactions, Juan Salvador not only keeps Tom company in lonely times. But more meaningfully, the penguin provides inspiration and emotional support and helps Tom connect with his students in new ways.

Based on a true story, the film weaves comedy and drama around a sensitive period in Argentina’s history. It explores how even in darkness, small acts of kindness can make a difference. Though trying to avoid the conflict, Tom is challenged to stand up for others through his bond with Juan Salvador. All the while, we’re left wondering—how seamlessly does the movie blend its heartwarming storyline with heavier historical themes?

Introducing the Isolated Oasis

The Penguin Lessons transports us to 1970s Buenos Aires, an epicenter of political upheaval. Yet within this turmoil existed an isolated bubble—the grounds of St. George’s College. Situated on the outskirts of the city, the elite boarding school felt a world apart.

Luscious lawns, tennis courts, and vibrant terraces created an idyllic campus. But attractive stone walls surrounded more than just facilities—they shielded the school’s insular community. Here, wealthy families sent their sons to insulate them from the dangers beyond. As conflicts consumed Argentina, St. George’s remained a calm oasis, or so its patrons believed.

It’s within this detached world that we meet the story’s foreign figures. Tom Michell, played with subtle nuance by Steve Coogan, arrives from England to teach. Strict yet stuffy headmaster Buckle, portrayed perfectly pompous by Jonathan Pryce, oversees this cloistered domain. Michell also connects with kindhearted colleagues like Björn Gustafsson’s warm-hearted character.

Meanwhile, lives outside endure terror. Violent regime change has gripped the nation. Unspeakable acts of repression spread fear throughoutBuenos Aires. Only faint echoes of explosions and distant gunshots penetrate St. George’s idyllic walls. The school strives to pretend political strife doesn’t exist, but uneasy truths linger nonetheless.

It’s in this delicate setting that a peculiar new resident emerges. While hoping to impress a woman in Uruguay, Michell rescues an oil-drenched penguin. But no matter what he tries, the bird refuses to leave his side. And so, in this carefree community so detached from reality, an outsider brings an unwanted yet beloved presence that will change everything.

Juan Salvador’s Influence

Within the cloistered world of St. George’s, one newcomer stood out amongst all others—a small Magellanic penguin named Juan Salvador. Though initially an unwilling guest, this flightless bird was not content to simply be ushered away. Through slapstick scenes of Tom’s failed efforts, Juan Salvador stubbornly stays by his side.

Word soon spread of the school’s unusual resident. Pupils flock to catch glimpses of the penguin, slipping into class unnoticed. Tom realizes Juan Salvador’s captivating allure and begins incorporating him into lessons, away from recitation and toward engaging discussion. With his endearing waddles down aisles and head tilts, Juan Salvador has every student entertained and enlightened.

Bonds also form between the penguin and staff, all coping after the regime change. Juan Salvador listens without judgment as brokenhearted colleagues confide inner turmoil. His calm company has a calming influence throughout darkened times. Even strict headmaster Buckle’s hardened heart is warmed watching students laugh freely again around their unique friend.

As Tom further embraces his teaching role, Juan Salvador remains a constant source of inspiration. The unlikely pair brings joy through hard days, their antics a comedic release. But amid tragedies like Sophia’s disappearance, Juan Salvador also provides comfort. Through being there for others’ tears as for Tom’s own pain, the penguin acts as therapy in bird form.

By inspiring empathy in Tom, Juan Salvador helps open his eyes to citizens suffering. What starts as a casual act of kindness blossoms into bravery when courage is most needed. Juan Salvador’s charm and compassion cultivate a new sense of purpose in advocating for justice, proving even the smallest CAN make big differences.

Finding the Balance Between Comedy and Tragedy

Within The Penguin Lessons’ lighter moments at St. George’s, Coogan delivers Tom’s dry wit and weary façade with precision. His understated style anchors the boarding school’s warmer scenes, letting supporting actors shine through nuanced reactions. Viewers grasp the personal troubles faced by characters like Gustafsson’s open-hearted colleague. The comedy sprinkled through everyday exchanges within the insulated walls feels natural.

However, a tonal imbalance emerges when turning to heavier subject matter. The film stumbles most when dramatizing life-changing tragedy. Coogan struggles to sell the depth of grief over Sophia’s danger, appearing untouched by civilian horrors minimized elsewhere. Their hasty resolution—Michell brushes off cell intimidation—reinforces discomfort, addressing real human costs.

By involving Tom directly in Sophia’s abduction rather than respecting factual removal, the narrative strains credulity. His earnest plea to kidnappers proves too intertwined. Striving for climactic drama, context grows confused, prioritizing sensational plot over respecting lived experience. Opportunities arise for the film to convey humanity and historical truth with equal care in both somber and silly scenes.

While the cast’s talents shine in humor, balancing pathos requires graver consideration. Glossing over violence committed against thousands shields viewers from full understanding. A film aiming to weave history faces tough tasks appropriately representing all sides with equal empathy, vulnerability, and care. The Penguin Lessons highlights challenges but falls short of fully successful translation between tones.

Evoking an Era Through Imagery

Isona Rigau’s production design immerses viewers in 1970s Buenos Aires. Authentic locations transport us to another time, from cobbled streets to polished school halls. Xavi Giménez’s cinematography enhances the experience. Scenes absorb dreamlike qualities through languid pacing and golden tones. Transitions between laughter and sorrow flow seamlessly.

Yet not all technical aspects gel so gracefully. Federico Jusid’s score amplifies certain emotions to a fault. Latin American instruments aimed to set a mood but overwhelmed with repetitiveness. At times it feels like listening to a single song on loop. Scenes deserve finding feeling in actors’ nuance, not overwrought instrumentation.

Where penguins are concerned, authenticity proves vital. Cast performances excel at reacting in-the-moment to live animals. Rarely does script dictate word-for-word, allowing wit to emerge from realism. Coogan plays off pawns—not props—earning each quizzical quack. The finale resonates most movingly by picturing Tom’s perspective shift through a symbolic high angle overlooking all aided and affected. In elevating experiences, it confirms cinema’s ability to say more while showing less.

While technicals vary, locales and creatures create an immersive aesthetic. Locations and true-to-life interactions foster empathy, conveying emotion without declamatory devices. The penguin lessons teach effectively through subtle imagery requiring reflection, not repetitive reminders.

Shifting Focus from Harsh Realities

To grasp the setting of The Penguin Lessons, a short history lesson provides necessary context. In 1976, a military coup overthrew Argentina’s government, ushering in the infamous “Dirty War.” Through campaigns of state terrorism, the regime sought to eliminate perceived political enemies. Their brutal tactics saw thousands kidnapped, tortured, and killed by security forces with total impunity.

Within this backdrop unfolds Tom Michell’s personal story. Yet the film diverges from faithfully portraying his experience. By centering Sophia’s kidnapping and giving her a larger role than reality, a distortion emerges. Rather than respectfully keeping politics at an objective distance as the memoir did, the narrative incorporates real tragedy.

But in doing so, it fails to adequately express the harrowing truth of what citizens like Sophia endured. Glossing over the unimaginable horrors and reducing her to a plot device does a disservice. An uplifting tone cannot whitewash such mass violence and disappearances without trivializing real human suffering.

While aiming to thoughtfully weave history into an interpersonal tale, the adaptation overreaches. Fictionalizing factual socio-political issues risks romanticizing cruelty if not handled with the utmost care, sensitivity, and accuracy. A balanced narrative embracing both lightness and darkness in an authentic way, as the source material did, could have achieved similar emotional impact without compromising integrity or respect for victims of atrocious human rights violations.

Finding Resonance Through Simplicity

The Penguin Lessons aimed to blend lighthearted charm with heavy history. An endeavor many filmmakers would find daunting. Yet in reaching to connect personal and political realms, uneven tone shifts risked undermining earnest aims.

Perhaps the story spreads itself too thin between genres, weakening potency. Or historical complexities hard to depict sensitively within cinematic limitations diminished the visceral impact reality demands.

Yet within St. George’s idyllic walls, simplistic scenes of friendship forming between unlikely companions like Tom and Juan Salvador remain memorable. Stripped of manipulative contextual devices, the fundamental emotions come through clearly.

The greatest emotional payoffs emerge when focusing solely on interpersonal growth rather than trying to represent societal issues beyond accurate portrayal. If keeping wider angles at arm’s length honors humility over pretension, impact lingers through small moments emphasizing humanity over didacticism.

Ultimately, one feels Cattaneo’s heart was in the right place, even if the execution fell short. But who can fault the intentions of bringing smiles, as the penguin did, during trying times—a gift the world still finds use for today. Maybe simple pleasures simply told can spread meaningful ripples of their own.