When he chalks up examples of good and bad grammar on the blackboard, they ask pointedly why he uses Anglo-Saxon names such as "Bill" and not, say, "Rachid". Teacher movies throughout the years have instructed us to expect some kind of inspirational, uplifting moment to occur before the credits roll, but The Class doesn't offer us that easy get-out; some students have learned nothing at all, and some have been lost forever. Happily, François finds a way to get through to Souleymane: he turns out to take great photos of his family on his mobile phone and François gets him to use these pictures in an autobiographical class project: it is a euphoric breakthrough.

The trickiest member of the class is Souleymane (Franck Keita), a boy from Mali with family problems and a temper.It was obvious to me that the students would bring a humour to the film, that they would be less predictable than a professional actor who has learned his lines and has all the technique. Its themes are universal, and the questions it provokes about cultural identity, discipline, and the way we teach and learn should resonate with any viewers who seek out this marvellous film. The end result is extremely realistic, but it is a chiaroscuro form of realism, with each nuance of teenage behaviour so subtly drawn that it feels almost like a police procedural transplanted to different soil. As a consequence, education becomes a way to address the limits of inclusivity in contemporary French society. His sole moment of privacy is glimpsed at the very beginning of the film: having a coffee before gearing himself up for the fray.

When Marin uses the name Bill for an example sentence, his multicultural class take him to task for always using "whitey" names, and insist he change it to something more in tune with their African and Middle Eastern backgrounds, like Aïssata or Fatou. This is also emphasised by the fact that the teacher in the film, François Marin, is played by the author of the novel, François Bégaudeau, so the boundary between fact and fiction tends to blend. Photograph: Magali Delporte Rabah Nait Oufella, one of the French students from the film The Class, which won a Palme d'Or at Cannes film festival last year.At break-time she chats with her friends in the outside courtyard, exchanging gossip or comparing the latest mobile-phone ringtones. This film shows it as it really is and, for me, it is very credible - there are good moments and there are bad moments.

Esmeralda attends the Françoise Dolto High School in Paris's 20th arrondissement, one of the city's most culturally mixed neighbourhoods, but she also happens to be one of the stars of The Class, a film that won the coveted Palme d'Or at Cannes last year and is nominated for best foreign language film at the Oscars this month. Its authenticity means that it also sheds light on the tensions that arise, the mistakes that are made, and all the areas that need to be improved. Neither side gives ground, and yet the fact that François has to argue it out on the asphalt, on equal terms, is a kind of humbling, a swallowing of pride.

At the beginning of the year, the teachers go around introducing themselves to the new staff, and one goes through the list of pupils for one newcomer, briefing him grimly about each child: "gentil" or "pas gentil" - "nice" or "not nice" - with the latter seemingly the majority. Cantet doesn't pretend to have any answers for these questions, and at the film's close, we are left to wonder what Mr Marin has accomplished in the time we've been watching him. Uproar follows, in which Souleymane, after accidentally hitting Khoumba with his backpack, storms out and is suspended.