"To Sir, With Love" (1967) / "Up the Down Staircase" (1967)

BACK TO SCHOOL:  This is Part 2 in a series about teachers, students, and the classroom experience.  Re-visiting the movies of a particular era, that shaped my idea of school, is a nostalgic and reflective experience. It drives home how the uncertainty over reopening schools must affect the psychological and educational well-being of students and teachers.

“To Sir, With Love”, starring Sidney Poitier as a young black teacher who takes over a room of tough, disadvantaged kids in a working-class school; and “Up the Down Staircase”, starring Sandy Dennis as a young white teacher assigned to teach English to a group of unruly students in a poor New York neighborhood; are a perfect mirror image.

Both released in 1967, each is the story of a first-time teacher who faces the difficulties of maintaining order and the challenges of relating to students and school administrators.  Both are fish-out-of-water stories (even the title “Up the Down Staircase” suggests swimming upstream), as each teacher succumbs to frustration and even considers resignation before making a breakthrough.  Both classroomss are full of colorful and diverse students, some funny, some dangerous, some heartbreaking.  These students present various problems that each teacher confronts with charisma, personal strength, and wisdom.

Both films explore the inevitable schoolgirl crush on a teacher; one with innocence and humor, the other with dire results.   Finally, both films explore, in simple ways but with surprising depth, the issues of poverty and racism.

“To Sir, With Love” and “Up the Down Staircase” are both time-capsule and comfort-food, funny and sad, highly watchable, and filled with compelling drama and good nature.  Both employ humor with varying degrees of success.  They each remind us of the richness and uniqueness of the classroom, both for students and for teachers, in times of conflict or accomplishment.  Together they  make a terrific double-feature.

“TO SIR, WITH LOVE”

“I teach you truths. My truths. Yeah, and it’s kinda scary, dealing with the truth.  Scary, and dangerous.”  --Sidney Poitier as Mark Thackeray, “To Sir, With Love”

In 1967, when I first saw “To Sir, With Love” at the age of ten, honoring the truth was something our culture took for granted, even in a time of chaos and change like today. Dishonesty was especially unacceptable from our leaders. When Sidney Poitier imparted bits of wisdom, as in the above quote, it was less like learning something new than it was reinforcing what we already knew.  It was reassuring.

(If only that were true today, as we wade through misinformation to protect ourselves from a crisis that has killed more Americans to date (158, 337) than did Vietnam (58,220 confirmed casualties).

Poitier gives an Oscar-worthy performance as the shy Thackeray (his students address him as Sir), who finds his strength, and his voice, as he guides his rude, unkempt charges toward the scary responsibilities of adulthood.  

Poitier had the odd distinction of three stellar lead performances in 1967: besides “Sir…” there was Virgil Tibbs, the reluctant police officer trapped in a Deep-South murder investigation in "In the Heat of the Night”; and John Wade Prentice, a widowed doctor who falls in love with a white woman in “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner”.   Competing against himself, Poitier canceled out his votes, and failed to be nominated for any of them.

“To Sir, With Love” is based on an autobiographical novel about a black teacher in London’s East End, by Guyanese-born author, teacher and diplomat T. R. Braithwaite. Braithwaite was known for his writings on racial discrimination, and the film takes some liberties with the Braithwaite’s story.  He felt the movie was too sentimental, and eliminated some important personal material, such as his mixed-race romance (which was still a difficult subject in Hollywood).  

As a film, however, the story works within the boundaries it sets for itself.  True, it is a little sentimental, and the conflicts are sometimes conveniently resolved.  But it successfully involves us in the dilemma of a new teacher before a group of hardened students. It draws us in to see just how he will get through to these kids, with whom he seems to have little in common.

The turning point for the characters, and the high point of the film for me, comes during a field trip to a history museum, in spite of those who claim that Thackeray will be unable to control his students.  The scene is done in a series of still photographs, showing the young people interacting with the museum displays and each other.  The sense of bonding is palpable and inspiring, and it is scored to one of the most recognizable movie theme songs of the 1960s.

Lulu, whose recording of “To Sir, With Love” became a huge success in the US, plays one of Thackeray’s students. She has a natural screen presence, tough and “mod”, and also brings out the character’s more gentle and sensible qualities.  Also worth mentioning is Judy Geeson, who plays the blonde beauty Miss Dare, a wisecracking student with real intelligence, who develops special feelings for Thackeray.

The movie benefits greatly from its title song.  It is performed four times within the body of the film; during the montage, it lends the scene a sort of dreamy nostalgic quality, steeped in the fashion and sound of the 1960s.  Without the song, and the presence of Sidney Poitier, the film might not have caught on and become one of the biggest hits of the year.

 

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UP THE DOWN STAIRCASE

“If you deny what you know, or what you are, or where you are, you deny the simplest part of being alive, and then you die.”  --Sandy Dennis as Sylvia Barrett, “Up the down Staircase”

Maybe because “To Sir With Love” captured audiences first, or maybe because it lacked a catchy popular theme song, “Up the Down Staircase” did not become as well-known.  It is, however, every bit as engaging, emotional, and filled with moments of inspiration and wisdom.  It’s also much grittier, and more involved with the drudgery of the administrative tasks a teacher must contend with in American schools.

Directed by Robert Mulligan and produced by Alan Pakula (the team that did “To Kill a Mockingbird” in 1962), this film is based on the New York Times 1964 best-selling autibiographical novel by Bel Kaufman.  Kaufman was an educator and author, who had difficulty getting published at that time, because major publishers would not take manuscripts from women (she shortened her name from Bella to get around it). 

The film tells of an idealistic young English teacher, Sylvia Barrett, on her first assignment in a tough inner-city school in New York.  Sylvia’s challenges seem insurmountable: jaded, unsympathetic administrators, a predatory fellow English teacher, a room of 40 unruly students of all races and backgrounds who don’t seem interested in books or learning; mountains of paperwork, and a low-grade, constant threat of violence.

We learn little about Sylvia, except that she is single, graduated with honors in her Master’s program, lives alone, and gets a weekly phone call from her mother.  The film concentrates on Sylvia’s experiences at school, or traveling the dangerous streets to and from school.  

The movie mixes tones to interesting effect: the music by Fred Karlin uses flutes and snare drums to invoke humor or suspense, and the students seem a rowdy bunch, until their individual stories come into focus, with real drama and serious overtones that are gripping.

The students are played by non-professionals, most of them actual high school students. Given the 2-hour running time, we know many of these characters intimately, or learn about their home lives.  The rawness and freshness of these amateur performers is charming.  Along with the students, “Up the Down Staircase” uses cutting-edge camerawork and ambient sound recording, which give it a breath of realism that overcomes some moments that stretch credibility.

Most of all, the film belongs to Sandy Dennis, in a winning portrayal.  Dennis subdues her usual mannerisms to give us a portrait of a gentle, sincere and caring woman who wants so badly to break through to her students.  I think it’s her best work, coming one year after her searing, Oscar-winning portrayal of an unhappy young wife in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”. 

I really believed in Dennis as Sylvia, and I was invested in how she would finally have her breakthrough.  It comes rather suddenly.  After almost an hour of frustration and failure, she leads a spirited discussion of Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities”.  I felt physical relief when she smiled in quiet pleasure at the real learning taking place in front of her, even though the slow process of gaining their trust was eliminated for the sake of time.

Some moments are unforgettable: 

The “Tale of Two Cities” discussion is lively and breathtaking, incorporating literature with social issues of the time (and our time): race, power, poverty, and the contradictions found our culture. 

A student approaches the teacher she has a crush on, but  he embarrasses her by correcting the grammar of her love note (which has tragic consequences).  

A tough, delinquent student develops a complicated relationship with Sylvia, leading to what may be an understanding, or maybe an unleashing of his libido.  

A simulated courtroom late in the film, that Sylvia uses as a learning exercise, reveals a surprise, and leads Sylvia to make a fateful decision.

We need to remember what school was and can still be.  We need to hope for a way for schools to open safely again, and give students a chance to find enrichment from their teachers and fellow students, and even learn from the mistakes of youthful exuberance.  

I loved both of these movies in different ways.  I am grateful to the educators who authored their experiences in the books that were eventually adapted into these films.

T. R.  Braithwiate died in 2016 at age 104.  Bel Kaufman died in 2014 at age 103.  Perhaps there is a secret to longevity in teaching, and perhaps teachers today can take comfort in that thought.