Dead Poets Society Page #7

Keating is a masterful reader. With his marvelous voice, he

has milked this sentimental poem for everything it is worth.

Many of the boys are on the verge of tears. Suddenly Keating

shouts

KEATING (CONT'D)

AHHGGGG!!

The students jump halfway out of their seats.

KEATING (CONT'D)

Treacle! Mawkish treacle! Rip it out

of your books. Rip out the entire page!

I want this sentimental rubbish in the

trash where it belongs!

He marches down the aisles with the trash can and waits for

each boy to deposit the page from his textbook. The boys,

having been led down the sentimental path, cannot help but

laugh at this sudden change of mood.

KEATING (CONT'D)

Make a clean tear. I want nothing left

of it! Eugene Field! Disgraceful.

27A INT.MCALLISTER'S CLAS5RDOM - DAY 27A

Mr. McAllister, the Scottish Latin teacher, exits his room

and walks across the hall to Keating's classroom. He peeks in

the door window and sees boys ripping pages out of their

books. Alarmed, McAllister opens the door and enters

Keating's room.

27B INT. KEATING'S CLASSROOM - SAME 27B

McAllister is about to reprimand the boys when suddenly he

sees Keating.

McALLISTER

What the... Sorry, I didn't think you

were in here, Mr. Keating.

Baffled and embarrassed, McAllister exits. Keating strides

back to the front of the room, Flits the trash can on the

floor, and jumps into it. He stomps the trash a few times,

then kicks the can away.

KEATING:

This is battle, boys. War! You are

souls at a critical juncture. Either you

will succumb to the will of hoi polloi

and the fruit will die on the vine--or

you will triumph as individuals. It may

be a coincidence that part of my duties

are to teach you about Romanticism, but

let me assure you that I take the task

quite seriously. You will learn what

this school wants you to learn in my

class, but if I do my job properly, you

will also learn a great deal more. You

will learn to savor language and words

because they are the stepping stones to

everything you might endeavor to do in

life and do well. A moment ago I used

the term 'hoi polloi.' Who knows what it

means? Come on, Overstreet, you twirp.

(laughter)

Anderson, are you a man or a boil?

More laughter. All eyes are on Todd. He visibly tenses all

over. He cannot bring himself to speak. He shakes his head

jerkily "no.'. Meeks raises his hands and speaks:

MEEKS:

The hoi polloi. Doesn't it mean the

herd?

KEATING:

Precisely, Meeks. Greek for the herd.

However, be warned that, when you say

"the hoi polloi" you are actually saying

the the herd. Indicating that you too

are "hoi polloi."

Keating grins wryly. Meeks smiles. More chuckles. Keating

paces to the back of the room.

KEATING (CONT'D)

Now, many will argue that nineteenth--

century literature has nothing to do with

business school or medical school. They

think we should I read our Field and

Pipple, learn our rhyme and meter, and

quietly go about it our business of

achieving other ambitions.

He slams his hand on the wall behind him. The wall booms

like a drum. The boys jump and turn around.

KEATING (CONT'D)

(defiant whisper)

Well, I say drivel! One reads poetry

because he is a member of the human race

and the human race is filled with

passion! Medicine, Law, Banking-these

are necessary to sustain life-but poetry,

romance, love, beauty! These are what we

stay alive for. I read from Whitman.

Oh me, Oh life of the questions of these

recurring. OF the endless trains of the

faithless of cities filled with the

foolish... skipping... What good amid these O

me, O life? Answer: That you are here-

That life exists and identity That the

powerful play goes on, and you may

contribute a verse."

Keating pauses. The class sits, taking this in.

KEATING (CONT'D)

(awestruck tone)

"That the powerful play goes on, and you

may contribute a verse." Incredible.

(pause)

Poetry is rapture, lads. Without it we are doomed.

Keating waits a long moment.

KEATING (CONT'D)

What will your verse be?

CLOSE ON the faces of NEIL, KNOX, CHARLIE, MEEKS, CHAMERON,

PITTS, and TODD as they contemplate this question. Softly,

Keating breaks the mood:

KEATING (CONT'D)

Let's open our textbooks to page sixty

and learn about Wordsworth notion of

romanticism...

25 INT. THE WELTON DINING ROOM - DAY 25

On the dais in the front of the room is the teacher's dining

table. Below them are the students' tables. Mr. McAllister

sits to Keating's right.

McALLISTER

Quite an interesting class you had

today, Mr. Keating.

KEATING:

Sorry if I shocked you.

McALLISTER

No need to apologize. It was quite

fascinating, misguided though it was.

KEATING:

You heard it all?

McALLISTER

You're hardly a Trappist monk.

McAllister smiles. So does Keating.

McALLISTER (CONT'D)

You take a big risk encouraging them to

be artists, John. When they realize

they're not Rembrants or Shakespeares or

Picassos, they'll hate you for it.

KEATING:

Not artists, George, free thinkers. And

I hardly pegged you as a cynic.

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