It seems a foregone conclusion that all filmmakers try to send some sort of message in their works. Some films--Liar Liar--beat you over the head with this message, bringing in violin music and sappy confessions of love that inevitably make the viewer want to vomit. Other films, like Philadelphia, area little more subtle about their point, but nevertheless, still have a point they wish to make. 187 is the first film that I've screened in a long while that doesn't have any readily discernible message. Before viewing any of the Inner City High School films, I just sort of assumed that the message at hand would be along the lines of: 'with hard work anyone can succeed', or 'with care, anyone can prosper'. However, such is not the case with 187. Samuel L. Jackson stars as the inspired, inner city teacher, teaching in New York City. Faster than you can ask, "Why is Jackson riding his bicycle across what appears to be every borough in New York to get to work in the rain?", an angry student repeatedly stabs Jackson in the back with a nail, allowing smartass movie viewers like myself to use one-liners ranging from, "Jackson sure got the point" to "that kid sure nailed that course". Quickly, the film jumps two years into the future, following Jackson as he has relocated to Los Angeles. Jackson begins teaching in another inner city high school, romancing a blonde co-worker, and is, naturally, hassled by his punk students. As the film progresses, so does Jackson's relationship with Kelly Rowan, the aforementioned blonde co-worker, and so does the level of abuse that he takes from the gang-bangers. So Jackson puts his foot down, or, more accurately, Jackson ambushes the problem students and a) chops off one of their fingers, or b) kills them. Surprise surprise, the harassment stops. And ultimately, Jackson engages in a game of Russian Roulette with the most macho of his students, and 187 comes to an abrupt conclusion. The screen faded to black and I stared forward, wondering just what director Kevin Reynolds and screenwriter Scott Yagemann were trying to accomplish in this picture. Where Dangerous Minds, High School High, and Stand and Deliver showed how inner city students could flourish with a little extra care from a dedicated teacher, 187 chose not to examine this. It almost seemed as if Yagemann wanted to create a work about high school karma; a rage-filled, inner city teacher reeks vengeance on his disruptive students, but even this message is muted thanks to an ending that I still am having trouble both understanding and accepting. The acting, especially by Jackson, is solid, but with the suspect structure of the screenplay, and the most decidedly eyebrow raising turn of events at 187's climax, I didn't walk away from this film with a good taste in my mouth. Reynolds rebounded nicely from his previous financial debacle, Waterworld, but, as a whole, 187 just doesn't stand out as anything above average. This was better than Stand and Deliver and The Substitute, but didn't begin to tap into the energy possessed in Dangerous Minds.
