Given the complexity of cross-cultural communication and the heterogeneity of many ESL courses, using films is a very risky business. You are almost certain to offend, and may likely be offended in the process.
This does not mean I advocate showing thematically and petty pretty people in “family films”. I do, however, say open your eyes and think before showing a film. Who is your audience? What standards do they have, not for the films they watch, but for the films they watch in mixed company? Some countries ban, Curious George books because the man with the yellow hat smokes, but they permit nudity. In some countries, students wear clothing that would easily warrant a PG-13 in the US and result in a film being banned in other countries. In the US, you could probably show an extended scene of topless women bouncing around a bonfire, as long as the women had dark enough skin and grass skirts, but you could get sued for advocating the viewpoints on gender roles expressed in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Be true to your students.
On this site, we have tried to select films that would play fairly well to heterogeneous audiences in modernized, secularized countries.
For the most part, I would recommend avoiding films with nudity, especially if it is essential for the plot. While random nudity is, to me, more offensive than a love scene that is essential to the plot, the love scene may be worse for teaching. For example, I don’t foresee many problems from the brief glimpse of a nine-month-pregnant nude woman at the beginning of A Simple Plan, partially because the sceme is brief enough that students don’t need to dwell on whether or not it’s offensive. In case you can’t come up with enough reasons to reject the film True Lies, though, I will add that, in addition to being rubbish, it has a strip-tease scene that is key to the plot, key to the humor of the story, and likely to deeply offend anyone who thinks about it too much.
Violence is another obvious area to enter carefully. Films like The Matrix, with their brief but horrifying visuals, should be treated carefully with students who haven’t been exposed to huge amounts of stylized violence. It would probably play better with a group of Japanese teens (who have probably already seen it) than a group of refugees from Somalia’s civil war. On the other hand, realistic violence, like that of A Simple Plan, is likely to cause cringes regardless of culture without creating a barrier to learning. Saving Private Ryan, Fight Club, and The Passion of the Christ may all be great films, but I will never design discussion books for them because I have no desire to watch certain scenes repeatedly during a two-hour lesson.
Good Will Hunting scandalized many middle-class American audiences with its vulgar language, but I have never had a student complain about it for the simple reason that our bad words don’t mean anything to them. Sure, they know that certain words aren’t polite, but the words don’t provoke them. Good Will Hunting is missing from this text, though, not because of the words used but because of what they talk about. Gross-out jokes like the ones in this film (and like entire Ben Stiller or Farrely Brothers movies) don’t necessarily need to stop you from using the film, but you should decide how many hours of your life you’re willing to spend explain metaphors for bodily excretions.
Then there are the presidents. Shelve any movie with an American president in the “propaganda” section of the library and move on. Whether it’s a liberal sleep-around do-gooder (The American President), a liberal deceiving do-gooder (Dave), or a conservative action-hero do-gooder (Air Force One, Independence Day), the underlying message is that, if obeyed, the President of America will save the world. There is only one alternate: the deceitful, scheming, power-hungry president (Love Actually, Murder at 1600). I recommend distancing yourself from either stereotype.
Politics are rightfully unavoidable. However, intentionally political movies, whether thoughtful ones like Syriana, or thoughtless ones, like anything with Steven Segal, will most likely have bad guys who look like friends and relatives of your students. On a certain level, I think most people will benefit from seeing how foreign filmmakers portray their culture, but this is usually most helpful on an individual basis; it can be dangerous in a group.
Then you throw out the movies in which they talk too fast (Before Sunset), talk to slow (Meet Joe Black), talk unintelligibly (The Princess Bride), or talk in the wrong language (Waking Ned Devine-if it’s an American English course). You throw out the ones that require too much background knowledge of the legal system or business rules (anything based on John Grisham). You throw out the ones that assume white-skinned person in a disaster zone is more important than the brown-skinned people (The Killing Fields, Without Borders). You throw out the ones requiring intricate knowledge of pop culture (Scream!, Clueless). You throw out the ones that have only one theme (The Matrix was great, but in the sequels you could have a drinking game based on how often Keanu Reeves wonders whether he was meant to do something). You throw out the ones where every plotline is concerned with whether and when characters will have sex (most romantic comedies). You throw out the ones in which the story is told in such a way that you will lose too much if you stop the film to talk (Memento).
And what you’re left with are mostly bad movies: “Family friendly” saccharine and shmaltz and suburbs. Small wonder most of pop culture ignores families.
Oddly enough, though, bad movies are often great for teaching. Take Dead Poets Society, for instance. It’s a movie in which a man leaves the woman he loves in order so that he can talk about romance to young; in which a man lectures on individuality by forcing his disciples into idiotic rituals; in which a man expounds on the his students’ unlimited potential only as long as he is captain; in which a teacher’s chief contribution to a class is inspiring suicide, expulsion, and family breakdown. But it gets them talking, doesn’t it? Mr. Holland’s Opus is another one. It should have signaled the end of several Hollywood careers, but it’s remarkably easy to stop it every minutes to get intermediate-level discussions going on American life and culture.
So, am I really saying that The Family Man would be a better choice than Endless Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? Well, if you want to enjoy films, I’d recommend taking a screwdriver to any Nicholas Cage DVD in which he tries to act sane. He is consistently unconvincing in the role of a normal human. But, if you need to learn or help others learn to say things like, “Does the director of this film really believe that a woman would try to seduce her husband after he broke down and ran away from home on Christmas Day?” (A high-intermediate sentence, at least!), then get to studying The Family Man.
