One of the tougher things to grapple with is the fact that I love academia but don’t connect with cinematic depictions. I’m talking about the type that grew rampant in the 80s and 90s where filmmakers nostalgically looked back at their youth wearing studious uniforms as an overripe score plays behind them. It’s films like Dead Poets Society (1989) where it’s all about inspiration and discovery as everyone acts twee, the teacher has an eccentric personality that seems more designed to take academia into inspirational quotes buzzwords. I’m sure to somebody this approach to education was accurate, but to me, it’s the unfortunate way that school has felt elitist (read: white privilege). I’m not saying that we shift more towards Bret Easton Ellis’ “The Rules of Attraction,” but I would love if academia felt more… complicated?
The new Netflix series The Chair came as a wonderful surprise, producing six episodes totaling three hours. While I have never personally attended an Ivy League school, the topics being explored throughout the series created a more immediate nostalgia for me. As someone who enjoys being a student of academia, who will enjoy a class discussion that suggests I’ve interpreted a text wrong, there is something immediate and exciting about seeing a show that reflects the changing tides in ways that feel accurate to my experience. Given that it centers around Ji-Yoon Kim (Sandra Oh) as she becomes the head chair of a prestigious school’s English Department, it felt like the perfect kind of catnip.
The truth is that I’m currently a student at my dream school studying for an English degree. For over a decade, I have been slowly reaching that goal while learning better ways to approach school. In that time, I’ve seen the very idea of language change. The idea of who was considered “scholarly” was altering before my eyes. It came with a social change, where Black Lives Matter and Me Too entered the discourse, asking us how it informed a modern interpretation. Another reliable fallback was whether the literary canon should be more inclusive. I even remember the week that Junot Diaz faced some allegations, causing us to discuss whether “problematic” figures should be held in high regard. I love these discussions, and they all feel like they’re at the core of The Chair.
What makes the series feel ultimately essential is that it feels like a discussion of the contemporary use of education. On the surface, it makes sense. Everyone is deserving of learning as much as humanly possible. However, things quickly become clear that The Chair is going to deconstruct the shift to a more progressive approach. Gone are the days where people could watch Dead Poets Society and not question the lack of diversity. There’s also the rise in financial costs that are taking a toll on the school’s sustainability. They need to find practical ways to stay afloat, including hiring guest speakers. Ji-Yoon wants Colson Whitehead, but they have to settle for The X-Files’ David Duchovny – even if they’re pretty sure none of the kids actually care.
That’s the thing about Ji-Yoon’s time as Chair. Her job is to maintain order, but there are so many factors already working against her. As the first woman to hold the position, there slowly becomes concern that she was elected as some sort of symbol, someone the school board could turn to and say that they’re “woke” because they have a woman leading a department that is barely holding on. Given that Bill Dobson (Jay Duplass) comes under fire for comparing absurdism to fascism (with a few suggestive poses), things spiral out of control. The question of free speech becomes central to the remainder of the series, asking whether Bill was in the wrong, The students can’t help but judge him, sharing a video that, out of context, looks pretty damning.
In other places, The English Department is facing a more compelling shift that also feels recognizable. Along with themes of free speech, ethics, and representation, there’s the diversity of teachers. The younger generation seeks to turn Herman Melville’s “Moby Dick” into something more interactive, connecting with the students through interactive projects. It’s the idea of keeping literary studies alive, making one hold interest in the material. They understand the world that students inhabit so much more than the older generation, who are less than hip to change.
Elliott Rentz (Bob Balaban) in particular dislikes Yaz McKay’s (Nana Mensah) for doing this. Elliott comes from the old school, needing to hold classical lectures that require grand thought, lengthy monologues, and everything that students find absolutely boring. As it comes to be revealed, his job is of growing irrelevance, the fear of everyone over 55 being forced into early retirement since their classes draw the least attendance. They cannot keep up with the changing world, fearing that something is lost in turning Melville into something flashy, full of interactive plays and rapping. It’s the insecurity of aging, of feeling like everything you held dear is becoming irrelevant. It’s also the fear that maybe you’re just not good at your job anymore.
What makes the series especially effective is how all of these pieces are balanced, where each episode finds the various subplots cutting across each other, doing their best to go unnoticed. There is a desire for complacency, a need to act like nothing is changing while everything is in jeopardy. If Bill loses his job, it’s a great fall for free speech. If Elliott loses his job, there’s concern that academia is losing something vital. Even in the case of Joan Hambling (Holland Talor), her insecurity around a bad review on Rate My Professor leads her to hunt down a student and discuss the merits of Chaucer.
A lot of this is vital for conversation because as much as education should be about learning, there’s so much that asks how useful it is. The most noteworthy aspect of this is during a dinner scene where The English Department has joined together, preparing for Ji-Yoon’s inaugural speech where she will lay out her plans. She is socially awkward, so she stumbles through the speech. Meanwhile, other teachers wander around the room waiting for excuses to quote poetry and literature. They so desperately want somebody to recognize their knowledge, to laugh and appreciate the hours they clearly spent reading this book. There’s nothing wrong with this, but it’s comical to the viewer. There’s a recognition of their desperation to be validated, to feel like their place in this system is still vital.
This is the ultimate question about what academia serves. In the contemporary era, one can probably just open Google and look up most of this information. There are peer-reviewed documents that one can access without needing to pay insubordinate fees for classes or a degree that maybe isn’t useful. It’s clear that the very idea of education has differed greatly since the days when most of the teachers first stepped through those doors with gleams in their eyes. They cannot relate to the public, the social media-conscious students who expect different things leave them feeling hopeless. They can quote the right books by heart, but not translate them for a modern audience.
The Chair asks for more compassion to the staff even as they rely on acts of desperation. This is most evident in the invisible question that hangs over everything. Was the hiring of Ji-Yoon mostly done to appease an image, not really caring about the ethics of selecting someone who actually was good at their job? Her first scene involves receiving a vindictive plaque welcoming her while the predecessor is in the middle of a downward spiral emotionally. She spends early moments sitting on a crate and dealing with a father who judges her every action. Nobody likes what she’s doing, though maybe it was that way beforehand. They simply hired her to handle a whole host of problems ranging from finances to ethics. None of these is her fault, and yet she must solve them all.
I am not sure how people more apathetic to education will respond to The Chair. As it stands, the whole series feels like it comes from personal experiences, where the writers are crossing off a checklist of complaints and grievances they’ve been holding onto for years. It all feels so cathartic, capturing the ways that schools are a confusing mess and how the staff have no choice but to grin and bear it, hoping one day their problems will get resolved. Things as small as having offices in inappropriate places become needless paperwork, where the people who are needed aren’t available at the right time. While they may be smart enough to comprehend books, it becomes clear that nobody knows how to understand each other.
On some level, I love the show for opening up all of these discussions that feel vital. While I have never been a teacher who has had to sit through these meetings, I am familiar with those who are so obsessed with their subjects, in need of making people believe that passing on these words will somehow make the world a better place. I don’t think they’re entirely wrong. There is something valuable, but at the same time, the literary field grows crowded the more perspectives are let in. What things from the past should be held onto and what should be changed? Is something lost in the process?
I’d argue that more than a delightful and zippy script, these themes make the series feel like something more than cheap potshots. There is an effort put forward to understand why things are a mess, to add compassion and heart to even the most absurd character. It tears away that nostalgia of what academia is generally seen as: perfection and intellect. It replaces it with serious questions that are being grappled with in this moment. Maybe in time they will go away, replaced with something else. Even then, The Chair will be seen as something that spoke to the moment in ways that may be worth dissecting later on. Will people like Ji-Yoon ever be respected, allowed to hire Colson Whitehead for readings, or will they continue to be undermined, seen as lesser simply because they are the first of a new breed? It’s tough to say, but I’ll let you know what my teacher thinks about it when I get back from class.
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