The Penguin Lessons is based on the memoir by English teacher Tom Michell, who took a job at an elite boarding school in Argentina during the Perón dictatorship—a time when people were being kidnapped in the streets for opposing the regime. Hoping to keep a low profile, Tom instead finds his life upended after rescuing a penguin from an oil spill on a beach. Not only does the penguin disrupt Tom’s solitary lifestyle, but it also draws attention from teachers, students, and school staff, forcing him to reconnect with the world around him—and possibly change in the process.
Steve Coogan takes on the role of Michell, bringing his signature deadpan delivery to a story that never quite settles into a consistent tone. Directed by Peter Cattaneo (best known for The Full Monty), the film feels like an odd blend of Kiss of the Spider Woman, I’m Still Here, a typical boarding school drama, and the whimsy of Paddington—truly strange styles to mash together.
One moment we’re watching a rugby match played for laughs or adults having therapy sessions with a penguin (“because penguins are good listeners”), and the next, we’re plunged into scenes of families being torn apart due to political repression, and discussing oppression aiming for the same weight as I’m Still Here. That tonal whiplash makes it difficult to take the heavier moments seriously. The first act, in particular, drags with a sluggish focus on Tom’s depression—so much so that when the penguin finally arrives, you’re just relieved you no longer have to sit through only gloomy characters talking to each other.
Rather than leaning into a more family-friendly tone, the film sidelines the students and their potential storylines, focusing almost entirely on Coogan’s Tom and his emotional detachment. Coogan does what he can, but his character begins the film so closed-off and unlikable (especially for this type of story) that it’s hard to fully invest in his personal journey. If the film had focused more on the children—and explored what was happening in Argentina through their eyes—their arcs, which are frustratingly reduced to simply paying attention in class, could have offered a stronger balance between the film’s heavier political themes and its lighter, more whimsical moments.
Which brings us to the one element that truly works: the penguin. Whether it’s refusing to eat, mistaking a bar of soap for an egg, or loyally trailing Tom along the beach, the penguin brings the kind of charm, energy, and offbeat humor the film so desperately needs more of. Scenes where Tom hides the penguin or tries to smuggle it across the border inject real life into the movie. The character is so well-realized that when the credits roll and we see actual footage of the real penguin, it lands a genuine gut punch.
If only the rest of The Penguin Lessons lived up to its feathery star. As it stands, it’s a cute but inconsistent dramedy weighed down by tonal confusion and an overlong setup. When the penguin’s on screen, there’s something there. When he’s not, it’s either standard, too-lightweight British fluff to be taken seriously—or too focused on its unlikable protagonist to be truly engaging.