Good documentaries are unassuming in their perspective and allow the story to speak for itself. The First Class doesn't tell a compelling story, nor does it seek to tell the truth. Amid a conflict of interest, the film struggles to elevate the stories of its inspiring subjects.
We get a first glimpse at the film's uncomfortable relationship with the broader debate around charter schools in one of the first scenes: A title sequence that proactively labels Crosstown High a "public charter school." Charter schools are privately-run schools that divert resources from surrounding public schools. While there are voices in the Memphis community critical of this, we aren't given an opportunity to hear them. Instead, the film blindly adopts the XQ institute's drippy sense of self-congratulatory idealism. It would have been interesting to learn about the founders' educational philosophy and the intellectual sources they draw from. Instead, the film repeats their talking point that "the students are the main creators of the curriculum." Crosstown High students staged a walkout during the creation of this film to protest against an unfair grading systems and the dismissal of their Black supervisor. Why doesn't this film touch on these events? While there are moments of tension in the film, they feel like they were set up to immediately convert into a positive resolution.
We see the school's board members and educators brainstorming on a white board, talking to students about their projects as products, and prodding them to aggressively "ideate and iterate". What are the intangible effects of a constant "improvement mindset" on students and teachers? Are we in the board room of a tech company or in a school? These are questions that documentaries as a format are well-equipped to examine. While the film makes sure to show lots of scenes of white and Black students next to each other, it also fails to mention that Crosstown High is less racially diverse than the Memphis school system overall. The film addresses this point by vaguely talking about how the community was instrumental in bringing the project to life. But besides a scene of children putting up sticky notes on a massive wall, we don't learn anything meaningful about this process.
If this school is to serve as a model for a sustainable future of improving education, it would have also been interesting to spend a few minutes exploring the economics of opening and operating a charter school. How much initial investment did it take to build it, and what financial instruments might be available to others? Can every charter school be equipped with rows of MacBook Pros? Here the filmmakers should have entrusted its target audience with a more information. If a vision is to be effective, it needs to be credible.
Where this movie could have been strong on the raw and inspiring portraits of its subjects, an overly fast pace and awkward editing detract from it. We see a pained Le'Cedric who, sitting on his bed, describes a history of family loss and trauma. Instead of letting this powerful moment of vulnerability unfold onto the viewer, the film immediately cuts to a circular saw and upbeat music. Earlier, we see a student struggling to find a classroom, just to cut to him entering that classroom. We are shown a candid moment of Le'Cedric rapping into a microphone from behind a partially closed door, just to hear his next line up close. This cadence feels staged and isn't very authentic. The film's positive moments feel like they're held hostage to the underlying message. For every problem the film presents the perfect solution - Crosstown High. All of the portrayed students are amazing, and it would have been great to hear their stories without the more obvious sell. As you may guess, the film closes with a URL to the XQ institute that invites the viewer to "learn more".
In conclusion, watching this film feels more like sitting through a commercial for a non-local billionaire's pet project. The film maker has a keen eye for powerful stories, but the overall ideology of this film detracts from them.
We get a first glimpse at the film's uncomfortable relationship with the broader debate around charter schools in one of the first scenes: A title sequence that proactively labels Crosstown High a "public charter school." Charter schools are privately-run schools that divert resources from surrounding public schools. While there are voices in the Memphis community critical of this, we aren't given an opportunity to hear them. Instead, the film blindly adopts the XQ institute's drippy sense of self-congratulatory idealism. It would have been interesting to learn about the founders' educational philosophy and the intellectual sources they draw from. Instead, the film repeats their talking point that "the students are the main creators of the curriculum." Crosstown High students staged a walkout during the creation of this film to protest against an unfair grading systems and the dismissal of their Black supervisor. Why doesn't this film touch on these events? While there are moments of tension in the film, they feel like they were set up to immediately convert into a positive resolution.
We see the school's board members and educators brainstorming on a white board, talking to students about their projects as products, and prodding them to aggressively "ideate and iterate". What are the intangible effects of a constant "improvement mindset" on students and teachers? Are we in the board room of a tech company or in a school? These are questions that documentaries as a format are well-equipped to examine. While the film makes sure to show lots of scenes of white and Black students next to each other, it also fails to mention that Crosstown High is less racially diverse than the Memphis school system overall. The film addresses this point by vaguely talking about how the community was instrumental in bringing the project to life. But besides a scene of children putting up sticky notes on a massive wall, we don't learn anything meaningful about this process.
If this school is to serve as a model for a sustainable future of improving education, it would have also been interesting to spend a few minutes exploring the economics of opening and operating a charter school. How much initial investment did it take to build it, and what financial instruments might be available to others? Can every charter school be equipped with rows of MacBook Pros? Here the filmmakers should have entrusted its target audience with a more information. If a vision is to be effective, it needs to be credible.
Where this movie could have been strong on the raw and inspiring portraits of its subjects, an overly fast pace and awkward editing detract from it. We see a pained Le'Cedric who, sitting on his bed, describes a history of family loss and trauma. Instead of letting this powerful moment of vulnerability unfold onto the viewer, the film immediately cuts to a circular saw and upbeat music. Earlier, we see a student struggling to find a classroom, just to cut to him entering that classroom. We are shown a candid moment of Le'Cedric rapping into a microphone from behind a partially closed door, just to hear his next line up close. This cadence feels staged and isn't very authentic. The film's positive moments feel like they're held hostage to the underlying message. For every problem the film presents the perfect solution - Crosstown High. All of the portrayed students are amazing, and it would have been great to hear their stories without the more obvious sell. As you may guess, the film closes with a URL to the XQ institute that invites the viewer to "learn more".
In conclusion, watching this film feels more like sitting through a commercial for a non-local billionaire's pet project. The film maker has a keen eye for powerful stories, but the overall ideology of this film detracts from them.