‘The Penguin Lessons’ points the way to inspirational wisdom

“The Penguin Lessons” (2024 production, 2025 release). Cast: Steve Coogan, Jonathan Pryce, Björn Gustafsson, Vivian El Jaber, Alfonsina Carrocio, Mica Breque, Osvaldo Ayre, Baba/Richard. Director: Peter Cattaneo. Screenplay: Jeff Pope. Book: Tom Michell, The Penguin Lessons (2016). Web site. Trailer.
Most of us would probably agree that learning lessons is an important part of our life experience. However, at the same time, most of us would also likely concur that we seldom know what those lessons will be, what their messages are or how they will arise in our lives. What’s more, and perhaps even more perplexing, we often don’t know who the teachers of those lessons will be. Could they be the circumstances that appear? The people who cross our paths? Or maybe something else entirely unexpected? What matters most, though, is will these mentors succeed in doing their jobs in conveying the insights we’re supposed to receive? Such is the case in the delightful new memoir-based comedy-drama, “The Penguin Lessons.”
In 1976 Argentina, curmudgeonly middle-aged English teacher Tom Michell (Steve Coogan) somewhat begrudgingly takes an instructor’s job at St. George’s College, a prestigious boarding school in Buenos Aires. He’s welcomed by the button-down, by-the-book headmaster, Timothy “Timbuck” Buckle (Jonathan Pryce), and takes up residence at the school’s modest on-site accommodations, where his everyday needs are met by his assigned cook and housekeeper, Maria (Vivian El Jaber). However, shortly after Tom’s arrival, the country’s military-led coup takes place, the beginning of a years-long period of brutal political and social oppression frequently referred to as “the Dirty War.” When the takeover occurs, for safety reasons, the school is largely evacuated of its students and staff until circumstances settle down. That includes Mr. Michell, who decides to go on “sabbatical” in neighboring Uruguay at an oceanside resort town, a move that amounts to more of a vacation than anything else.
While out on the town one evening, he meets an alluring woman, Carina (Mia Breque), at a nightclub. They share a dance and then depart for a late night/daybreak walk along the beach, a development that Tom hopes will serve as a prelude to a night of passion. However, during their stroll, events take an unexpected turn: they encounter a young, distressed penguin (dually portrayed by Baba and Richard) covered in oil, the victim of a believed spill. In an effort to impress his prospective date, in an act of presumed chivalry, Tom dons the mantle of good Samaritan, agreeing to take the bird back to his hotel to clean it up. Tom and Carina thus proceed to bathe the helpless creature, who perks up considerably once washed. But, while the bird is soon better off, the same can’t be said for Tom, who’s abandoned by his companion when she admits she’s married and can’t stay. Needless to say, the irascible instructor is left high, dry and frustrated, confirmed in his belief once again that no good deed goes unpunished.

Events take an even more unexpected turn come morning: When Tom attempts to return the penguin to the wild, the bird won’t leave him alone. Every time he tries to free his feathered cohort at the beach, the penguin turns and follows him wherever he goes, even into a seaside café, where curious onlookers are captivated by the bird’s apparent unwavering attachment to the man who has been attempting to be its well-intentioned liberator. Indeed, true to form in what’s often thought to be typical penguin behavior, the bird has made Tom his new friend, like it or not, grateful for the gracious kindness he extended to it. But what is Tom to do with an uninvited pet penguin who won’t leave him alone? So, quite reluctantly, when it comes time to return to Argentina, Tom is now saddled with an unanticipated traveling companion.
Thus begins Tom’s relationship with his unexpected acquaintance, a connection for which he must devise an explanation for these unusual circumstances. His first test comes when passing through Argentine Customs, now under the control of the military. Rather than trying to concoct some kind of fabricated tall tale, Tom decides to tell the truth – that he came into possession of the bird in an effort to impress a woman – to the hard-nosed, eminently skeptical Customs Officer (Osvaldo Ayre) processing his return. Tom quietly hopes that the penguin will be confiscated from him. But, given that the agent has never encountered a situation like this – and doesn’t know what to do about it – he passes Tom through for reentry – and, much to the returning traveler’s dismay, lets him keep the bird, too.
Once back in Buenos Aires, Tom seeks to sheepishly sneak into St. George’s, hoping that no one will spot him with the penguin, given its strict “no pets” policy for residents. He also begins the process of trying to get the bird placed in a local zoo and attempting to hide it while awaiting the animal’s transfer, but that effort goes awry more often than not. To complicate matters, others soon discover the penguin’s presence, foiling Tom’s efforts to keep it under wraps. He’s thus concerned about how long his tenure will last, considering that he’s already changed jobs multiple times in recent years and has tired of continually having to relocate.

However, something curious begins to occur the longer the bird is present: Tom starts taking a liking to his impromptu roommate, an affinity on par with how the penguin “feels” about its unwitting rescuer. In addition, others at the school begin befriending the penguin, too, including Maria and her adult daughter, Sofia (Alfonsina Carrocio), a kitchen employee at St. George’s. The same is true of one of Tom’s teaching colleagues, Tapio (Björn Gustafsson), a science teacher from Finland who perpetually laments the loss of his significant other, who unceremoniously left him for another man. Even Timbuck becomes enamored with the new resident when its presence is revealed, the prohibition against pets notwithstanding. And, given the bird’s popularity, he’s invited to sit in on Tom’s classes and even given a name, Juan Sebastian, a tribute to the title character of the immensely popular book at the time, Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
But Juan Sebastian’s presence becomes something more than just a curiosity or mascot. He becomes a genuine friend to all of the humans around him. By inadvertently assuming the role of confidante, the bird helps many of the St. George’s residents with issues that they have been unsuccessfully wrestling with. They speak to him, almost as a therapist, hearing themselves being honest about their feelings, perhaps for the first time ever. It’s obviously impossible for any of them to determine whether Juan Sebastian actually understands them, but it also ultimately doesn’t matter to them, either. They begin to discover things about themselves that they didn’t know previously: The lovelorn Tapio begins sorting out his sorrow over being lonely; Timbuck comes to terms with his preoccupation of believing he always needs to appear correct and on top of matters, especially when it comes to the impression he leaves on others, like influential benefactors to the school; Maria seeks to understand her worries about Sofia’s potentially dangerous political activities and the risk associated with her daughter and the rest of her family being labeled dissidents; and, most of all, Tom finally finds a way to come to grips with himself, the ghosts of his past and the things that have caused him to long become so relentlessly cynical. That’s quite an accomplishment for a little bird.
And so, as unlikely as it might have seemed when all this began, the improbable messenger who ostensibly appeared out of nowhere comes to leave an indelible mark on all those he touches, helping to impart newfound wisdom to them in ways and to a degree that none of them could have possibly anticipated. Indeed, who would have thought that a penguin in distress could come to assume such a sagely role. But, in light of the payoff afforded by Juan Sebastian’s presence, his impact could be seen as immeasurable. That would seem to lend credence to the old adage that, when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. And, in the case of these characters, it’s unlikely they dispute the validity of that contention.

However, as seen in this story, sometimes the mere presence of the teacher is enough to get the ball rolling. In instances like this, the teacher is able to successfully convey the message of the lesson without saying a word, relying instead on actions or, like a good therapist, by just listening to what the student has to say. By encouraging the pupil to open up and speak from his or her own heart, conditions are thus created to get the individual to express his or her true feelings, unfettered, a practice that leads to insights and many “a ha!” moments. Such developments frequently reveal the underlying beliefs that are shaping the student’s experiences, for better or worse, and make it possible to consider new, alternative, never-before-imagined ideas that can point the way in new directions. Message delivered and lesson learned.

Using our beliefs to shape our existence has infinite possibilities, but there are three areas in which it can be particularly useful, and they’re aptly depicted in this film, namely, overcoming limitations, altering aspects of life that no longer suit us and healing old wounds. This is true for Tom, as well as many of the supporting players in this story, and, in each case, the results are life-changing. The lessons they each learn from these experiences enable them to move beyond what has been holding them back, keeping them locked in place and feeling that they’re unable to rid themselves of old hurts. Indeed, we can learn much in situations like this, even if it just involves sitting back and pouring out our hearts to a cute little bird.
Given the circumstances involved in this picture, at first glance, one might think it’s a cutesy, schmaltzy, manipulative tale a la Disney, but far from it. This charming comedy-drama from director Peter Cattaneo tells how a simple act of kindness and compassion can ultimately yield as much for the rescuer as it does for the rescued, a story that leads to the unwitting imparting of valuable life lessons to someone who’s ready to receive them, even if unaware of that fact. The picture tellingly explores questions of personal growth and overcoming lingering anguish, all brought about by the influence of an improbable feathered mentor. It also examines the emergence of selfless courage and how it can arise under duress, even in a tense social and political environment like the one present here that has both the protagonist and virtually the entire Argentine population on edge.
In addition, this delightful offering is a tale the defies a long-held cautionary adage about casting decisions in entertainment projects. There’s an old show business expression that advises actors never to work with children or animals, because they’ll upstage them every time. But, while that’s often true, it’s certainly not the case here, as penguins Baba and Richard in their dual portrayals of Juan Sebastian prove to be equal partners in the picture’s ensemble, making a mark without stealing the show. The birds somehow seem to “know” when they should play the perfect foil for their human counterparts, who, in turn, generally seem to know when to defer to their feathered co-stars, as well as when to step up into the limelight. That’s especially true of Coogan, who’s signature deadpan acting style makes him the perfect choice for the role of Tom, a character who often finds himself taking a back seat to Juan Sebastian but who also knows when to assert himself when needed, a performance not unlike the one he gave as put-upon investigative reporter Martin Sixsmith in the fact-based comedy-drama “Philomena” (2013).

While the film is indeed fact-based, the creators have made use of their literary license in the development of this version of the story. This is perhaps most notably seen in the character version of Tom, who is depicted here as a disgruntled middle-aged man who is transformed by his experience, coming to gain a new appreciation and understanding about life. In actuality, however, when his real life counterpart underwent the experiences depicted here, he was only in his 20s, still young and in the process of learning about life. Whatever the reason was behind this change, the underlying purpose of the story was the same in both cases – to show us how to avail ourselves of the learning opportunities that arise in our lives, particularly at the times when we need them most, regardless of how they’re presented to us and whomever the instructor might be, even if it’s a small flightless bird.
Admittedly, the film has a little trouble finding its footing in the opening act, but, once it does, it’s a touching release that’s genuinely moving without being drenched in saccharin. “The Penguin Lessons” is also one of those movies that needs to be seen to be believed, as the trailer truly doesn’t do it justice. Indeed, this is one of those heartfelt, uplifting stories that the world needs more of at a time when we could all use a little inspiration to help see us through the tough times we live in. The film is available for streaming online.
Given the significance of the learning process and what it has to offer us in life, we’d be wise to take advantage of it when it comes up. We generally come away from these experiences a little bit older but a lot wiser, the recipient of knowledge and insights about ourselves and the world around us that we’ll carry with us for the rest of our lives. All we need do is leave ourselves open to the possibility. And, when the teacher of these lessons arrives in an unlikely form, such as that of an adorable and endearing sea bird, how can we resist (and why should we)? In the wake of an experience like this, the penguin still may not be able to take flight – but we certainly can.
Copyright © 2025, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.