Education is the profession that makes all other professions possible – it’s a common saying, but one that has never wavered in its importance or relevance. Some even consider teaching to be the oldest profession (there’s another that often bears that title, but that’s an entirely different conversation), since for as long as we’ve been sentient, there have been those delegated with the task of preparing the younger members of a community for the future, and whether its teaching them to hunt for food, or discussing the importance of poetry, education plays a vital role in our lives. As a result, we often find this to be the foundation for many fantastic works in every medium, with many artists deciding to pay tribute to these people and the role they played in defining their formative years. We all remember the great teachers and the terrible teachers – and in the case of Tom Michell, deciding where on the spectrum he sits is quite a difficult task, but it’s undeniable that he was a memorable figure in the lives of the children he taught. His story is the basis for The Penguin Lessons, which is based on his memoir that recounts his experiences as a young teacher who takes up a position at a prestigious private boys school in Argentina in 1975, where he struggles to connect with his students, particularly since the country is on the precipice of the military coup d’etat that it would soon collapse into during his tenure at the school. However, his story is notable not because of his skills or knowledge, but rather his unorthodox methods – namely, the arrival of Juan Salvador, a penguin Michell rescued from an oil slick that he unwillingly is forced to adopt after the young creature bonds with him. The initial frustration begins to abate once Michell realises that not only did he earn a lovely new companion, but also found the perfect way to captivate his students, who are far more attentive to a teacher accompanied by a penguin than they ever imagined possible. A lovable, charming blend of comedy and drama, Peter Cattaneo proves that he still has the precise, meaningful attention to detail that he did with his breakthrough The Full Monty, an otherwise entirely different film in terms of tone and subject matter, but one that still contains the spark of wit and ingenuity that made him such a fascinating director in the first place.

We certainly don’t need to wax poetic about the importance of teachers – unless someone is a radical anti-establishment rebel, we all have at least one person from our past that we consider vital to our development through their contributions to our education. This is not restricted to traditional school settings, but rather any situation in which a mentor figure is taking someone else under their wing, wisening them up to some particular aspect of the world in the hopes of preparing them for the challenges that lie ahead. At a glance, The Penguin Lessons does seem to be relatively conventional as far as films about teachers tend to go – a well-meaning but still quite grouchy educator starts a new job at a school, which entails battling stringent adminstrative duties, interacting with a pernickety headmaster that is more focused on the reputation of the school than its students, and a classroom full of juveniles who are far more interested in asserting their dominance rather than actually learning anything. It is from here that the film builds some of its most memorable and enticing ideas, not restricting itself to only the process of traditional education (there’s surprisingly only a handful of scenes that take place within the classroom), but being a striking manifesto on the different forms of teachers we encounter in our lives, even if it ultimately comes down to the dreadfully reductive description of the titular penguin being responsible for teaching Michell certain lessons, such as compassion, patience and grace, all of which he comes to view as more important than ever through the process of interacting with this creature, as well as the many people who enter his life as a result of this peculiar addition to his daily routine. Cattaneo and screenwriter Jeff Pope do very well in balancing the various topics, with some fascinating observations on the education system, the socio-political situation in Argentina at the time, environmental issues and (perhaps most importantly) South American culture, all of which are beautifully interwoven as this film sets out to explore the experiences of the protagonist, using the fish-out-of-water trope as the starting point for a truly special little film.

The extent to which a film like The Penguin Lessons succeeds depends wholeheartedly on the actor cast in the central role – and it’s absolutely undeniable that someone with a particular set of strengths needed to be enlisted, or else the entire film would have likely fallen into shambles, becoming nothing more than an overwrought jumble of ideas. Steve Coogan is not always someone who gets the opportunity to show off his dramatic skills – he’s objectively very gifted, but he tends to be cast in roles that are essentially playing off his usual persona. Therefore, its delightful to find him given a role that does seem to be a riff on similar characters he has played in the past, but in a way that is quite engaging and not at all limiting or one-dimensional, and instead allows him the chance to truly stretch himself, all the while still maintaining a very careful sense of self-awareness, never veering too far off course. Tom Michell is a fascinating character – he’s slightly socially awkward, and his status as someone who prefers to consider himself more of a hopeless wanderer does mean that his skills when it comes to maintaining long-term relationships, whether professional or personal, need to be massively sharpened. This is fertile ground for Coogan, who may be about three decades too old to play the role (Michell was in his early twenties when these events took place), to develop a character that is very much within his wheelhouse, but also interesting enough for him to make some tremendously entertaining narrative decisions that are far more engaging than it could have been with a different actor in the central role. It’s very much a vehicle for Coogan, but the supporting cast has some strong performances as well – the standout is probably Vivian El Jaber, as the no-nonsense housekeeper who starts as the comedic relief, but eventually proves to be the emotional heart of the film, as well as the always fantastic Sir Jonathan Pryce, who elevates a very one-dimensional role, using his unique gifts to sell us on absolutely every moment in which the character is used. It’s a tremendous use of the actors (even the young newcomers who play the students are terrific), and it infuses The Penguin Lessons with so much heart and soul.

While some have been able to craft films that are a bit more innovative when dealing with the subject, something like a tribute to the importance of education and the people who participate in the act of preparing future generations for life’s various obstacles does tend to rely on a certain storytelling approach, which is exactly how we define The Penguin Lessons, a film that is very much built on a traditional style. Ultimately, it may not be entirely enthralling or unique, but there is something to be said about a film that is self-assured enough to not be impelled to take too many risks, and instead remains reliable and consistent, delivering exactly what it promises and not forcing the viewer to guess where it is heading, which is the result of simply knowing what it wants to say and not needing to prove anything else. However, this isn’t an excuse for the abuse of emotions, and we find that Cattaneo has a firm command of the ideas that pulsate throughout this film, which is a much more elegant affair than we would expect. There is some degree of predictability, and we know exactly where certain aspects of the plot are going to lead – but ultimately, this is a perfect example of a film that is defined by the trite but relevant adage that some stories are about the journey rather than the destination, and while it never veers too far from where we would expect, the steps this film takes to get to certain points are deeply meaningful and unquestionably sincere, being a masterful examination of the central themes. The film avoids becoming too overwrought – even when the titular penguin meets his very sad fate, the director resists layering the story with unnecessarily dense emotions. Everything is quite matter-of-fact, delivered with sharpness and precision, which is mostly facilitated by the perfect blend of humour and melancholy, both of which are not only useful in moments where the film needs to take on either a more lightweight or sombre tone, but also in how the two very different tones complement one another, allowing some of the funnier moments to have an undercurrent of sadness, as well as ensuring that we don’t dwell too long on the more downbeat elements of the story, which does reflect reality and its tendency to be composed of an equal amount of joyful and sad moments.

The Penguin Lessons is not a film that redefines the art of filmmaking, nor is it something that we can consider particularly daring or inventive. Instead, it earns our respect through its forthright honesty and willingness to embrace its simplicity, choosing to be more direct in its intentions than it is innovative, which is unquestionably very valuable, even if some of us may yearn for it to take a couple of risks. Ultimately, Cattaneo has built a solid career out of reliable, consistent comedies about slightly more serious topics, using humour as a means to examine society, culture and the human condition at large. It’s very straightforward, and chooses to remain mostly unfurnished and free of any discernible frills – this is all part of the impact made by this film, which is not a complicated affair in theory, but finds ways to develop on its underlying themes in a way that feels earnest and intriguing, inviting us to undergo this journey with the protagonist, experiencing these tumultuous times alongside him, and unearthing some truly delightful details along the way. It features stellar work from a cast led by a rarely-better Coogan (who delivers his best work since Greed over half a decade ago), and sharp, meaningful direction that is never particularly extravagant, but has a heartfulness that makes a big difference. Ultimately, what The Penguin Lessons sets out to achieve is to explore the role teachers play in the lives of their students, and how some of the best education we receive is not in the classroom, and the best teachers are those who we least expect, sometimes being found in entirely different species altogether. Charming, heartfelt and always funny, the film is a triumph, capturing the heart and soul of this touching true-life story with genuine empathy, affection and a never-ending supply of offbeat humour behind which a truly compelling set of ideas reside.