An Education (2009)

My large music collection contains mostly classic rock and top-40 hits. I even collect what I call room clearers, cringe-inducing oldies like “Feelings” and “Seasons In The Sun” that are quite effective when the party’s ending and you wish your guests would just go home already. As I continually sort through my collection, there’s another musical subset that intrigues me (though not in a weird personal way, I assure you): jailbait songs, such as “Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon” and “Only Sixteen,” tracks that may have a catchy melody, but also contain lyrics that, if enacted in real life, would likely lead to felony prosecution.

Likewise, jailbait movies range from the cheesy low-budget depths of Ed Wood’s Jail Bait to highbrow cinema like Lolita and Pretty Baby; the Oscar-winning American Beauty mixed the jailbait element with a mid-life crisis story. To this list we can add An Education, an intelligent production from BBC Films that centers its coming-of-age tale around a romantic relationship between a British schoolgirl and an older man — a coupling that, if not necessarily illegal by 1961 UK standards, was certainly enough to raise questions, concerns, and eyebrows.

Jenny (Carey Mulligan) is a 16-year-old student at a girls’ school in Twickenham. Her overbearing taskmaster of a father, Jack (Alfred Molina), is determined to see Jenny get into Oxford, so he insists she play the cello, not out of any musical or artistic inclination, but because it’s purportedly a worthy hobby to be listed on her entrance application. When she takes a momentary break from her studies to sing along with a record of a French singer, Jack sternly reminds her that French singing isn’t part of the syllabus at Oxford. An awkward neighborhood schoolboy named Graham (Matthew Beard) has a crush on Jenny, but he incurs scorn from her father when he says he’s thinking of taking a year off before university to travel. For Jack, Jenny’s educational future is his singular and utmost concern.

One afternoon, Jenny and her cello are rescued from a rain-soaked bus stop by David (Peter Sarsgaard), a charming thirty-ish music lover ostensibly concerned about keeping her cello safe from the elements, though he can’t take his eyes off her. When they see each other again and he asks her out, Jenny is skeptical that such an outing will meet with her parents’ approval. However, David proves quite adept at plying his charms on her father and her doting mother Marjorie (Cara Seymour), telling them he’s an Oxford graduate although he previously admitted to Jenny he was “educated in the school of life.” Utterly polite and financially comfortable, before long he’s whisking Jenny away on weekend trips to Oxford and beyond.

Jenny is thrilled to receive a worldly sort of education in the company of David and his friends, Danny (Dominic Cooper) and Helen (Rosamund Pike), drawn into their world of nightclub jazz, art auctions, Chanel perfume, and French cigarettes. David is obviously sexually attracted to Jenny, but is gentleman enough to respect her wish to remain a virgin until she turns 17. This relationship can be construed as romantic young love by some observers, but others might perceive it as somewhat less than acceptable behavior, both by today’s standards and certainly in 1961, when Jenny’s increasingly intimate and worldly life produces scornful comments from her dowdy teacher, Miss Stubbs (Olivia Williams), and the school’s headmistress (Emma Thompson). Surprisingly, Jenny’s father grows to approve of the relationship with David–he reasons that if Jenny’s less-than-perfect grades in Latin keep her out of Oxford, then being a kept woman by a well-to-do husband is the next best thing for her.

Based on a memoir by Lynn Barber, the adapted screenplay by Nick Hornby (author of High Fidelity and About A Boy) is virtually note-perfect throughout, delivering a cast both realistic and diverse. Every single word, action, and facial expression is completely believable and true to that character, time, and place. My only minor quibble is that the ending is far too tidy, but such things do happen in real life, so it’s not a serious detraction. In fact, the script is so adept at revealing details at just the right moments that I look forward to seeing it again to fully appreciate its genius.

The period costumes, hairstyles, and décor are dazzling and nostalgic, the soundtrack is replete with great jazz-tinged songs of the era, and the whole production is directed with confidence by Lone Scherfig. She knows how to get the best from her talented cast, all the way down to the young girls playing Jenny’s classmates.

As for the cast, several deserve special recognition for their work. I must emphatically sing the praises of Alfred Molina, who has been one of the most talented and versatile actors of the last 30 years. It’s hard to wrap my brain around the idea that this is the same man who played Indiana Jones’ doomed guide in the opening scene of Raiders Of The Lost Ark, the gun-waving drug dealer in Boogie Nights, and the villainous Doc Ock in Spider-Man 2. What a range, and he adds another highlight to his repertoire with this remarkable, heartfelt performance. Cara Seymour is nuanced in the less-showy role of Jenny’s mother. Peter Sarsgaard exudes charm as the playboy while skillfully walking a fine line that only becomes apparent upon further examination of the picture as a whole. And Olivia Williams is brilliant as the prune-faced spinster teacher who is wiser than she lets on.

But it’s Carey Mulligan who owns this movie. She gives a captivating, perfectly realized, star-making performance that forces me to compare her to Audrey Hepburn. There’s a moment when the virginal Jenny exposes her breasts, and director Scherfig wisely chooses to focus not on Mulligan’s nakedness but on her facial reaction; I watched a number of expressions cross her face and realized I was seeing an amazing talent blossoming on the screen. Call me smitten, just like others who’ll see this film and receive their own education on how to craft a smart, realistic, and altogether excellent motion picture.

Also Recommended:

• A Single Man
• Me and Orson Welles