My own personal Seventh Seal

So, what is it like to teach this film class? It is a joy, of course. When I teach American history, I don't feel like the course is mine, in any way. The curriculum is what it is, despite my best efforts to force a change in the inexorable tide of history. I did consider diverging from the script in a drastic way once, but I knew that the students would probably know that Eugene Debs was never President.

But with the film class, I own it. Think of it this way. Imagine being able to invite 30 of your very best friends over to your place every day to show them your favorite films. Then, after you've finished watching, you force them to sit and listen to you expound on this and that, ad nauseum. Most of us would pay big bucks for the sheer bliss of such an activity. but, I actually get paid to do it. Who's got it better than me?

And you people are indeed my close friends. After all, in my other classes, we have more of a business relationship. The grades are a factor, the tests, the AP exam must be passed, the need to keep discipline is paramount etc. Also, the students are younger, especially the freshman. One has to "lay down the law" and "rule with an iron fist" and "brook no nonsense" and a whole host of other absurd but necessary cliche'd actions. But not here. Here, at last, after three and half years of noses to the grindstone, we can just kick back and enjoy one another's company in a relaxed, yet intellectual atmosphere. You know, it's pretty rare (though not unheard of) that a student in one of my history classes makes an observation or analysis that is so profound that I have not thought of it myself in some fashion. But the films are so complex, and the students so smart that new and unseen observations are the norm here, not the exception. I've learned a lot from the students in my film classes, which only adds to my enjoyment. (Naturally, I will use your material next year without attribution.)

The irony is that this class, arguably the easiest you will take in your long and ongoing scholastic career will remain with you in memory for many years, (I hope) and will impart to you a skill which you will use constantly in your day to day lives. I never like to compare the value of any class with any other. All have value. I just think this one has value out of proportion to the amount of work required of you. (I exempt James from this, as he's currently writing 18 essays per day) (Nick too, but he's poaching from his other blog).

Anyway, I was moved to write this today because the 7th Seal evokes this sense of joy in me perhaps more than any of the films we show. I'm not sure why. Bergman died last year and it occurred to me on that day that there were several hundred former students out there somewhere who thought about this class, however briefly. And I knew that they were proud that they knew who Bergman was, and were able to speak about him intelligently. And several of them contacted me.

I recall the first time I showed the 7th Seal to a class. I thought I was taking a chance. There was no way that a bunch of teenagers would respond to this obscure Swedish art film. I remember pleading with the class to give the film a chance, to not put their heads collectively down upon their desks. How little faith I had in the power of Bergman's art, and in my students. Perhaps you can imagine how overjoyed I was when that class, and every one since, responded so enthusiastically to this film, which is one of my very favorites.

For those of you who are wondering if I can keep up this steady stream of great films, the answer is yes. I've got about a dozen more gems in that filing cabinet and it will be a joy to share them with you.