Nothing shows up a bad
film better than good acting. And here we have an all-round champion of
inadequacy (lame characters, limp plot, immensely irritating and intrusive
soundtrack of crap-pop), which is almost redeemed by Mirren, who
turns in an early contender for TC Oscar contention as twisted and bitter
teacher Mrs. Tingle. An incident involving an exam paper leads to three of
her pupils (Drop-out, Swot + Wannabe: tick off those clear-complexioned
cliches) taking her hostage in her own home. Yet Tingle continues to hold
the upper hand... Changed, post-Columbine, from Killing Mrs. Tingle,
that tweak accurately sums up just what a pussy this film is: it wants to
be rebellious, but bellies-up with barely a whimper. Mirren, however, is
deliciously evil, leaving the rest of the cast sprawling in the dirt,
although this makes the final denouement even more pathetic. It's clear
that the Royal Shakespeare Company is a better dramatic training ground
than the likes of Dawson's Creek.
C-
