“O Captain, my captain.”
The title of this film is not one that is conducive to obtaining a large crowd of eager watchers, itching to view a movie seemingly centered around dead poets (woohoo). I saw this as I speak from first hand experience: my exact reaction to my mom insisting we watch this film was a deliberate and strung out groan. However, (shockingly!), as you can see from how far this film has found itself on my list, I was embarrassingly naive and judgemental, and left the movie with tear stained eyes and a new perception on both the intricacies of film, literature, and life itself.
Dead Poets Society follows a group of students at a rigorous all boys preparatory school, sent in by parents with the expectation of exceptional academic achievement, especially in fields such as business and mathematics. A new English teacher is brought in, John Keating, played by Robin Williams. Keating challenges the status quo of learning and education at the school, an environment centered on numbers and figures and disabling any sort of personal expression. The boys eventually revive Keating’s former “Dead Poets Society”, a underground group that meets to read poetry, old and new. While this is a main activity of the society, it becomes to stand for more than just simple words on pages, but a place in which emotion, love, self expression, and brotherhood thrives and can live safely. Below is a scene from one of these exclusive meetings, showing the creativity and freedom that was allowed to exist within the confines of the cave, so cherished to these boys.
One of the greatest testaments to a film’s greatness is what I like to call it’s aftertaste. What does a film leave you with as those ending credits roll? How do you feel waking up the next morning? I believe that film does not succeed in achieving anything worthwhile if its audience does not carry a piece of it with them as they go throughout their life, not matter how small or silly. One of the reasons Dead Poets Society is so high on my list lies in the fact that its message had struck a chord in me upon first viewing it at age 14, one that has yet to leave the inner corners of my mind. Throughout the film, the idea of expression, the idea of the beauty that lies within words and syllables and tears of passion is constantly emphasized by Keating, and eventually realized by the boys. For what is there to live for if not something so alive, like the words of a poet in love? Often times we are overwhelmed with the idea of finding a career that will offer us the highest income, the greatest financial security. Sometimes we push aside passion in pursuit of stability. But, as Keating describes in the clip below, “Poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.” This film awoke that feeling in me, and has consistently indoctrinated in me the urge to express, to write, and to love, as that truly is the purpose of my existence.
I would be remiss if not to include perhaps the most influential aspect of this film: Mr. Robin Williams. I know, I know, I spoke of him a few short weeks ago concerning his role in Good Will hunting. But the impact of Robin Williams spans not one or two blog posts, or 1000 words, but an infinite amount of time and space. I am foolish to even attempt to speak on this man’s life, or talent, as it is almost indescribable, intangible. John Keating had the ability to make his students find the beauty in a world of books and numbers, had the ability to help them find the true meaning of life itself. But Williams? Williams had the ability to somehow bring this character out of the cinematic dimension and right into the eyes of the audience. He challenged everyone watching to be their best, to not just live, to “live extraordinarily.” This is why the final scene has stuck out to me, and millions of others, so prominently. We were not just watching from the comfort of our couch at home, but found ourselves standing on top of those desks. Oh Captain, my captain, thank you for teaching me, us, to seize the day. That is a gift we can never repay.