22

MONDAY

As the eldest child, I take my responsibility to my younger brother seriously. Together we have hotboxed to Hagar, zooted to Zep, and gotten loaded to Lynyrd. Earlier this year, I recommended that he watch Richard Linklater’s School of Rock—partly because Jack Black’s character, not unlike myself, is an unshorn, pudgy spazzoid who instructs the younger generation on the beauty of AOR. Over Thanksgiving dinner, I asked my brother if he had liked the film. “Nah,” he said, “It was kinda lame. For kids and soccer moms only.” I was crushed. My brother was now the cooler one. The student had become the teacher. Though Slacker was a landmark movie for me back when I was taking acid instead of notes, I betrayed Linklater immediately: “You’re right. School of Rock was middle-of-the-road pap. Call it Minivan Halen.” Be grateful that at least you’ve reached the age where Waking Life can function as an elaborate parody of pretension when the film screens with School of Rock as part of the “School of Rick” film series starting at 7 p.m. (see Showtimes for a full schedule) at the American Film Institute’s Silver Theatre and Cultural Center, 8633 Colesville Road, Silver Spring. $8.50. (301) 495-6700. (David Dunlap Jr.)