FREEDOM WRITERS
Review by Kim Voynar:

  When I first heard the plot of Freedom Writers -- inspirational movie about a white teacher bringing hope to
poor, black students -- my initial reaction was: Yawn. Haven't we already seen this story, in Dangerous Minds,
with Michelle Pfeiffer in the role of the white knight saving the day? So it was with not a little trepidation that I
settled down with my popcorn and diet soda for the screening of Freedom Writers. And then ... what do you
know? I was actually surprised -- in a good way -- to have my expectations proved wrong.
  Hilary Swank (who also produced) plays real-life idealist Erin Gruwell, who, raised by her activist father -- a
man who was Atticus Finch to her Scout throughout her childhood -- has grown into a young woman on fire to
change the world. Her father, meanwhile, has grown into a middle-aged golfer more concerned with his stock
portfolio than the lives of the poor and beleaguered, and is none too pleased that his brainy, talented daughter
has decided to forsake a lucrative legal career in favor of a job as a teacher at Wilson High in Long Beach.
  The film takes place in the wake of the Rodney King riots, and Wilson High is a hot-bead of simmering
hostilities. The white teachers resent the minority students, who they see as taking over a school that rightfully
belongs to the well-to-do white kids who can afford to live in the neighborhood. Wilson High was once, according
to the old guard of teachers still holding down the fort there, a "good" (read: predominantly white) school which,
in the aftermath of an integration program, has been forced to
educate a pack of Latinos and Blacks and Asians (oh my!) bused in
from poor neighborhoods.
  The minority students resent the white teachers who don't
understand their lives or care to know anything about them. Worse,
the students resent each other, segregating themselves into racially-
divided groups that war on each others' territory to the extent that a
school that was once both peaceful and well-regarded has to have
armed security guards to break up fights in classrooms before they
turn deadly.
  Into this melee walks fresh-faced, perky Gruwell, 23 years old and
just out of college, who has the absurd notion that she might be able
to find a way to motivate and teach these students. Gruwell is assigned to teach freshman and sophomore English
in Room 203 and, to be fair, initially she does get the wind knocked out of her perky sails. She walks into Room
203 to find it empty -- her students finally are herded into class by the security guard, and they promptly
rearrange their desks into racially-divided territories. The hostility in the room from her students-- both towards
each other and the young, white woman beaming at them from the front of the room, is palpable.
  Two pivotal events happen to set things in motion. One of Erin's students, Eva, witnesses a racially-motivated
shooting committed by her boyfriend, and faces pressure from her gang and her own incarcerated father (one of
the founders of the gang to which she belongs) to lie and lay the blame on a Black classmate. Then Gruwell
confiscates a racist cartoon caricature of one of her Black students (complete with grossly exaggerated lips and
nose) drawn by one of his Latino classmates, and erupts into a rage that her students have never seen in her
before. She launches into an impassioned diatribe comparing the cartoon of her student to the cartoons the Nazis
used to publish of Jews -- until she stops short, realizing her rant is being greeted with blank stares. "How many
of you know what the Holocaust is?" she asks. Not a hand is raised.
  Gruwell realizes that her kids are living in a war zone -- all of them have parents or family members doing time
in prison, all of them have been shot at, and most of them have had a close friend or relative die in gang-related
violence -- and that they might find parallels to inspire them within the story of another teenager living through a
war -- Anne Frank. But when she tries to requisition copies of the book from the dour department head (Imelda
Staunton), she's told in no uncertain terms that her students are not deemed worthy of having access to the
resources the good students get. Out of a supply room stocked with unused books, the only thing she is given for
her students are dog-eared, bedraggled copies of books written on a grade-school level.
  Not so easily daunted, Erin takes matters into her own hands. She believes that her students, if given respect
and access to the right materials, can be reached and shown that their lives don't have to be dead ends, and so
she takes on a second job -- and then a third -- in order to buy them new books (the first new books most of
them have ever had) and take them on field trips. Erin gives her students The Diary of Anne Frank and takes
them to the Holocaust Museum to meet survivors, and for the first time, they see a world outside the violent one
in which they live. Gruwell brings a variety of resources to her class, from the lyrics of Tupac Shakur to the
Odyssey, and challenges them to find the relevance to their own lives. She encourages them to share the stories
of their own lives by writing in journals, and for the first time the students begin to see that they have more in
common than the differences that divide them.
  What makes this story stand out from others of its ilk is that the focus is less on the "great white hope" of an
idealistic white teacher saving the day, than on the kids who learn to take charge or their own lives. The students'
journals, which told their tales, were published in a book called Freedom Writers (a name the kids took to honor
the "freedom riders" who challenged segregation on buses during the Civil Rights movement), and writer/director
Richard LaGravanese based the script and characters entirely on those stories and on interviews with the real
class of Room 203, most of whom not only graduated from Wilson, but went on to college.
  There will be those who will dismiss Freedom Writers as sappy and cliched, but Swank's passion and personality
suck you into the story right from the start, and knowing that the script is based on real stories makes it
meaningful and inspirational. Gruwell and the students of Room 203 have a story that should be seen by every
educator who believes that students' destinies are determined solely by the circumstances into which they are
born -- and every inner city kid who's been told he'll never amount to anything. Gruwell has done more
meaningful work than any of the critics who will brush off her story as sentimental and predictable, and
LaGravenese and Swank, in bringing her story to life, do the story of the real Freedom Writers justice.

Hilary Swank talked to us (Cinema Confidential) at a press day recently about her new film.
Q: How did you decide upon selecting this project to star in?
HILARY: It was a no brainer. I read so many scripts, I can't tell you how many scripts I read. I'd say one in 20 is
stellar but to find one of these - Boys Don't Cry, Million Dollar Baby - I'd put this one up there. It's probably one in
50. You read it and I just get chills. I have such a deep
connection to it on so many different levels. It's almost
indescribable what happens. There's no word for it and you
just feel it.
I also fell into it for a lot of other reasons. I really related to
these kids and what they went through. Not to say that my
background or history was [similar] - I never got shot at and I
never tried to shoot anybody. But without comparing, I just
felt like an outsider as a kid. I didn't feel like I fit into school at
all. I didn't feel hopeless for my future because I had this idea
of what I wanted to do with my life and my mom believed in
me. But to me, the power of having somebody to believe in
you is partly what the story is about and how one person in
your life can make a difference.
Q: When you met the real Erin, what kind of conversation did you have and was there anything you
wanted to take from her that you thought was essential in your portrayal?
HILARY: [Director] Richard [LaGravenese] did have us meet. We all went to dinner to celebrate once it got setup.
It came together, we all went out to dinner and I got to meet her. We talked about life. We talked about her
story, my story, what brought us here and how it felt for her story to be told. I told her how brave I thought it
was to have her story to be told. We talked about the kids and what they were doing now. She wanted to be seen
as a human, not a hero, because she felt like the kids were the heroes. I told her it was scary for me to play this
role because it's an incredible story and I didn't want to mess it up.
Q: You seem to have this knack of picking projects that will win awards or accolades...
HILARY: The last thing I ever do is ask if this movie is going to be an award movie. Because the second you put
some sort of pressure on something like that, you're doing it for the wrong reasons. I just try and find stories. I'm
a voracious reader. I'm in this business because I love people and their stories. I think everyone has their own
unique stories. As a kid, feeling like an outsider, the only thing that made me feel understood were books and
movies. That's why I got into this business. I wanted to connect more with these characters so that I could
understand myself better. So when I read these stories, I connect on a real emotional level or learn something
new, like in "Boys Don't Cry," where I didn't have a sexual identity crisis but I knew about wanting to give love
and receive love. You come to this story, I related to the power that one person had who believed in me, and it
made me feel hopeful. My mom gave me that gift and I was lucky as a kid when she gave it to me. So I just go
off my gut. We all have instincts and I think one of the challenges everyday for me is to trust my instincts. I think
it's a challenge for anybody. I think Clint [Eastwood] said it best when he said, "You always aim for the bullseye
but you don't always hit it."
Q: What did you get from working with the kids?
HILARY: The kids, only two were actors, the rest were kids that they found. I've been hearing in the interviews
that the kids got so much from me but I'm telling you, that experience for me was life changing in so many ways.
Here I am, at 32, I've been in this business since I was 16, I always try to enter anything I do with a new fresh
outlook. I try to be as open as possible to doing something new, and doing it differently, or doing it deeper in a
different way, and not playing it safe. But as much as I try to do that, I always have my own experience from the
past. I have ideas as to what can make something work. It's not my first movie.
So when I walk onto this set with these kids, who have never done this before ever, and they have no
expectations except they're in the moment and not trying to achieve anything, it took me right back to the
beginning and made me better, I think. I think I learned a lot and not only as an actor, but a human being. I say
it over and over, but I get these experiences where I feel so lucky and so blessed that I do what I do. I get to see
life from so many different perspectives.

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