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A peek inside the real-life school of rock

There have been plenty of inspirational Hollywood tales about teachers over the years - Mr. Holland's Opus; Goodbye, Mr. Chips; Dead Poets Society; To Sir, With Love. But not a one focuses on a character as indefatigably unpleasant as Rock School's Paul Green. Which isn't to say that Don Argott's documentary about the founder of Philadelphia's fast-franchising Paul Green School of Rock Music isn't enjoyable. It is, immensely.

There have been plenty of inspirational Hollywood tales about teachers over the years - Mr. Holland's Opus; Goodbye, Mr. Chips; Dead Poets Society; To Sir, With Love. But not a one focuses on a character as indefatigably unpleasant as Rock School's Paul Green.

Which isn't to say that Don Argott's documentary about the founder of Philadelphia's fast-franchising Paul Green School of Rock Music isn't enjoyable. It is, immensely.

And it isn't to say that Green, an oversize personality who scowls, sneers and occasionally wields a threatening drumstick at his teenage and pre-teen charges, isn't an effective teacher. He is, and he knows it.

A frustrated rocker by his own admission, Green began tutoring kids on the fundamentals of Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath and Santana back in 1999. Before long he had more pip-squeak heavy metalists and pint-size headbangers than he could handle.

When Argott, a filmmaker and musician, came along to shoot his doc, about 120 kids were enrolled in Green's program, learning to play keyboards, guitar and drums, to wail like Ozzy Osbourne and Robert Plant.

Rock School zooms in on a select group of the students: C.J. Twyoniak, a teen guitar prodigy; Madi Diaz-Svalgard, a singer-songwriter with a Quaker background and friends in an Amish rap band (seriously - and seriously funny); Asa and Tucker Collins, preteen twins whose attitude, androgyny and AC/DC getups make for a picture of studied cool; and Will O'Connor, a mopey brainiac who counts off, right off the bat, how many times he has tried to kill himself. The relationship between the talent-challenged Will and the punishing Green makes for one of the film's meatier dramatic threads.

If Green seems as if he's playing to Argott's camera, it's nonetheless hard to believe that the guy is holding anything back: cursing, stomping, manipulating, he employs teaching techniques that would throw a public-school administrator into a here-come-the-lawsuits freakout. But Green gets away with the abuse: It's clear that he loves the music and the musicians he's talking about.

And maybe he even likes these kids. The fact that he isn't condescending in any kind of grown-uppity way gives him a certain amount of cross-generational cred.

The thoroughly engaging Rock School culminates with a concert performance at a Frank Zappa tribute festival in Germany. Green and his lieges have flown in to play one of the trickier extended jazz-rock pieces by the late Mothers of Invention founder, and the kids are joined on stage by one of Zappa's original band mates. It's a triumphant moment, met with approval by the Zappa fanatics, and by Green himself - who takes a big bow in front of the crowd as if he, himself, were Frank Zappa.

Or God.

Contact movie critic Steven Rea

at 215-854-5629 or srea@phillynews.com.

Read his recent work at http://go.philly.com/stevenrea.

Rock School

*** 1/2 (out of four stars)

Produced by Sheena M. Joyce and Don Argott, directed by Argott, photography by Argott, distributed by Newmarket Films/Picturehouse. With Paul Green, C.J. Twyoniak, Madi Diaz-Svalgard, Will O'Connor, and others.

Running time: 1 hour, 33 mins.

Parent's guide: R (profanity, adult themes)

Playing at: Ritz Five