I first saw this movie with my dad when I was about 8, and I have never forgotten it. It was so beautiful, sad, and moving. By the end of the movie I was in tears. I just recently dug it out, on VHS, might I add, to watch it. I remembered how...passionate it made me feel, even at a young age. And I found that it still has the same effect, feeling, and beauty to it as the first time, even all these years later.
I use language and descriptions that could be seen as homosexual, but they are not used in this context. This was set in the 50's, and I was hoping to keep that same style as much as possible. My Oma talks to me like this, and seeing as she was about the same age as them in the same basic time frame, I tried to write like she talks to me.
At first Todd thought that it couldn't be true, it couldn't be real. Not Neil! Kind, understanding, smart, Neil. Neil was his first real friend. He was the first person to real even try to bring him out of his shell, other than Mr. Keating. And his poor friends, how it must have killed them to have to be the ones to deliver this... this... tragedy.There was no other word to call it. An upstanding, dazzling, young man. And now he was gone. Never been to seen again. Other than in their minds, and a few pictures and records, it was like he was never there to begin with. And that...killed him.
He couldn't even fathom the thought of Neil being gone. In the time that they had shared a room together they had become brothers. When he found out the news, he wanted it not to be true. Maybe if he ran, far and fast enough, it wouldn't catch up to him, it wouldn't be true. He wanted to be left alone, to grieve alone. When the rest of the Society wouldn't let him be, he wanted nothing more than to push them away. But than as the days passed, he was so glad that they hadn't left him alone. He had no idea what he would have done had he been left alone. How happy he was to finally have friend that were there for him. That were able to see and understand what he needed when he wasn't able to speak to them.
And then came the fiasco with Mr. Keating. How one of those he had thought his brothers had turned on them. How was poetry wrong? All they did was celebrate life through poetry sometimes. Hw had been in tears in the headmaster's office. Forced to sign a paper that he didn't believe. How was Mr. Keating the one in the wrong? He had told them that the school wouldn't want another Dead Poets Society. He had merely wanted them to feel the words, the art, the beauty that was poetry, the English language. To get the blame off him, Cameron had blamed an innocent man and possibly ruined the rest of his life. This was cruel, inhumane, sick! And how he would pay later. And he would. Maybe not by his hands, but he would. Maybe not than, maybe not that year, but he would. How how utterly delicious it would be.
And just when his fragile heart couldn't stand any more, Mr. Keating was fired. Oh, the things he wanted to say to him! His beloved teacher, whom had taught him so much, had freed his words, gone! For a child who didn't appreciate just what had been given to him! And than to show up to class, and act as if nothing had been changed. As if nothing had be ruined. How dare he! The gall of him! How Todd wanted to yarp at him, like the barbarians of old. This was cruel, inhumane, sick! And how he would pay later. And he would. Maybe not by his hands, but he would.
When he saw Mr. Keating in class, leaving, he tried to explain. He had to show his support in the only way he could. He was so broken that the words wouldn't come, so he stood, for his Captain. His beloved Captain. He would never forget the man, what he instilled in him, in the others. And then, oh god! The rest of the Society stood! They understood what he was trying to say! And they agreed! Still others stood as well, even though they didn't know the full reasoning, or what the Society was trying to say, they had the basic idea. And how that moved him! And to see Mr. Keating's, no, his Captain's, face, mean everything to him.
