If you’ve ever had that one teacher—the one who changed how you think, who made complicated things feel simple, or who just made you believe in something bigger than yourself—then “The Last Class” is going to hit you right in the feels.
This documentary follows the final semester taught by Robert Reich—yes, that Robert Reich. The former U.S. Secretary of Labor, bestselling author, Berkeley professor, and one of the most recognizable voices on economic inequality. After 17 years of teaching at UC Berkeley, Reich retired from academia in 2022, and this film captures the bittersweet journey of that last class. But don’t be fooled. This isn’t just a nostalgic look at a legendary professor wrapping up his career—it’s a powerful reflection on teaching, learning, and the role of hope in a world that seems increasingly hopeless.
What’s It Really About?
At first glance, you’d think the documentary would focus on Reich lecturing in front of a chalkboard, walking students through graphs of wealth distribution and wage stagnation. And sure, there’s a bit of that. But the core of the film isn’t about charts or lectures—it’s about the emotional, deeply human side of teaching.
You see Reich share insights into the subject he’s most passionate about—income inequality—and while that topic has never been more relevant (especially in the last decade), the film zooms out to something even more profound: how knowledge is passed on, how curiosity is sparked, and how a teacher’s influence can stretch across decades and generations.
Reich the Teacher, Not Just the Talking Head
Reich has been in the public eye for decades. He’s one of those guys who’s been on TV since the ‘80s, showing up on talk shows and news panels with the same calm, confident energy. He’s got this gift—he can take a dense topic like corporate tax law and somehow make it sound like a TED Talk you actually want to finish.
And that charisma doesn’t disappear in the classroom. The film gives us short, intimate glimpses of him interacting with students—not just lecturing, but really engaging. He listens, he responds, and he’s constantly looking for ways to connect. His philosophy is simple but powerful: “A good teacher instills both curiosity and critical thinking.” You see that in action here, and it’s genuinely heartwarming.
A Man of the Mind (and a Really Long Eyebrow Hair)
If you’re expecting a Hollywood-polished professor with sleek suits and a PR team, think again. Reich is unapologetically himself. His clothes? Usually a bit rumpled. His hair? Let’s just say he’s not wasting time on fancy haircuts. And then there’s that eyebrow—yep, a single gray hair that curls out like a cat’s whisker. It might sound like a strange detail to focus on, but it says a lot about the man. He doesn’t care about appearances; he cares about substance.
There’s an authenticity to him that feels rare. He’s comfortable in his own skin, self-deprecating in the best way. He even jokes about his height—Reich has a form of dwarfism called multiple epiphyseal dysplasia—and once titled a book “I’ll Be Short.” But here’s the thing: while he may be small in stature, to his students, he’s a giant.
The Shadow He Casts
One of the most emotional parts of the documentary is when Reich casually asks if it would be okay to invite former teaching assistants to his retirement party. You can tell he’s not expecting much—maybe a handful of RSVP’d yeses. But the turnout is massive. Former TAs show up from multiple states, spanning decades. The room is packed with people whose lives he touched, and you can see it on his face—he’s moved, maybe even surprised by the love he’s inspired.
It’s easy to forget that teachers don’t always know the impact they have. They give and give, year after year, and often never hear the echo of their own influence. This party? It was that echo. Loud and clear.
Reich vs. Cynicism: The True Final Lesson
As the movie progresses, it becomes clear that Reich’s last course isn’t just about economic systems—it’s about fighting the kind of pessimism that makes people give up.
He talks about a disturbing trend he’s seen among his students. More and more of them seem convinced that their generation might be the last. Not in a metaphorical “we’re doomed” way, but in a deeply personal, existential sense. When he asked them directly, “Are you so laden with a sense of doom that you think everything will end?” many of them basically said yes.
That rocked him.
You can see it changes something in him. For the rest of the film, he tries to push back—not just with lectures and data, but with purpose. He knows the world is in rough shape: rising inequality, climate change, disinformation, political polarization. But giving in to hopelessness? That’s not an option. As he puts it, “Pessimism is fine. Cynicism is not.”
Let that one sink in. Being worried about the future is human. But deciding it’s already lost? That’s dangerous.
Old-School Politics in a New-World Mess
The film also captures how Reich still thinks—at least a little bit—in the language of a different political era. He remembers a time when Democrats and Republicans could actually talk to each other without shouting. Back when you could call a conservative your friend without being canceled by your own side.
He reminisces fondly about working with Alan K. Simpson, a Republican senator from Wyoming during the Clinton years. By today’s standards, Simpson might actually seem like a moderate liberal. But to Reich, he was simply a good man who believed in civil discourse. That kind of cross-party respect feels like a relic now—and Reich seems to know it. You get the sense he misses that America.
Still, the documentary doesn’t paint Reich as naïve. He’s well aware that the political landscape has changed—probably forever. He just refuses to let that be an excuse for disengagement. His message to students is loud and clear: even if things are bad, you still have to try. You still have to show up.
From Public Servant to Public Intellectual
After his time in the Clinton administration, Reich could’ve just faded into the world of think tanks and high-society dinner parties. Instead, he chose to become what we used to call a “public intellectual.” That term might sound stuffy now, but it basically means someone who uses their knowledge not just for academia or politics, but for the public good.
He wrote books, gave talks, made viral explainer videos, and taught thousands of students. He broke down topics like wealth concentration, media manipulation, and democracy in ways that people could actually understand. And he didn’t just lecture—he listened. He engaged. He challenged.
He’s like that rare professor who doesn’t just care that you pass the class. He wants you to get it. To take what you learn and go change something.
So What’s the Takeaway?
By the end of “The Last Class,” you’re left with a mix of emotions. You feel inspired by Reich’s passion. You feel the weight of everything he’s trying to teach. But mostly, you feel this strange combination of melancholy and motivation.
Melancholy, because this is a farewell. One of the great educators and public thinkers of our time is stepping away from the classroom. That’s a loss. No doubt about it.
But motivation, too—because his message doesn’t retire with him. It lingers. It plants seeds.
He tells students not to give up. Not to let cynicism win. Not to believe that the billionaires have already won and there’s no future left to fight for. He reminds them—and us—that change doesn’t come from certainty. It comes from courage.
And maybe that’s the best legacy a teacher can leave behind.
Final Thoughts
The Last Class isn’t a blockbuster. It’s not flashy. There are no car chases or dramatic courtroom scenes. But it’s powerful in its own way—quietly moving, deeply thoughtful, and maybe even a little life-changing.
It’s about more than just one man’s career. It’s about what it means to believe in something, to pass it on, and to keep showing up even when it feels like the world is falling apart.
Robert Reich might be leaving the lecture hall, but his final lesson is one we’ll be thinking about for a long time: don’t stop learning, don’t stop asking questions, and whatever you do—don’t give up.
