Starring Hilary Swank and Scott Glenn. Rated PG.

In a perfect world, great teachers would pocket Hilary Swank’s paycheque. Instead, with her new film, Freedom Writers, the double Oscar winner banked millions merely pretending to make a difference in the blackboard jungle. It’s some consolation that in doing so, Swank, who also executive-produced, has honoured and validated educators with an inspirational story.

Unlike similarly themed school films that relied on the gimmick of a catchy song, popular comedian, string section, or Michelle Pfeiffer’s high cheekbones, Freedom Writers pulses with authenticity.

Swank plays Erin Gruwell, an ambitious new English instructor at Long Beach, California’s racially fractious Wilson high school. Galvanized by the Rodney King riots that occurred a few years earlier, she eagerly introduces creative writing to a maelstrom of ethnically diverse students given up for lost, and voila!—the gang bangers develop compassion and self-respect. It would be schlock if it weren’t rooted in fact— director Richard LaGravenese’s screenplay is based on the real-life students’ achingly honest (or so we trust) scribblings. Gruwell’s methods involve teaching the brittle young adults about the Holocaust, visiting the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles, and inviting them to author their own journals, í  la the diary of Anne Frank.

An interesting parallel to the kids’ dilemmas finds Gruwell wrestling with her own identity and allegiance issues. Pulling in one direction is her resentful husband (Patrick Dempsey), with intimidation also coming at her from the worried father (Scott Glenn) she wants to please, the glowering students, and many Stupid White People—like Imelda Staunton’s school bureaucrat—who squawk at Gruwell’s inextinguishable faith in her charges. Unfortunately, Gruwell evolves too rapidly from a naif in pearls and polka dots into a wise taskmaster. And, sure, we cringe when she asks her surly 14-year-old charges: “Are you ready to git this par-tay goin’ on?!” But we see that this goofy Pollyanna really, truly cares about her class. So we do too.

Occasionally, when the kids emotionally extricate themselves from the scourge of abusive parents, self-loathing, and perverse loyalties, Freedom Writers is cheesier than French onion soup. Still, the young actors’ students convey a vulnerability that sneaks up and pokes you point-blank in the heart. And though we’re never told why some are wearing electronically monitored ankle jewellery, that’s probably just as well.