#and Todd is a poet for gods sake!
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Seriously?! There is a chat gbt Anderperry fic on ao3? Gag! Get that away from me. No one wants to see your disgusting chat gbt story. I can’t call it a work because no work was done and I can’t call it fanfic because how much of a fan could you possibly be if you don’t write it yourself!? “I wanted to see a happier ending to the movie.” There are hundreds of stories you could have picked from that a real person actually created because they care about the characters. They are all infinitely better than anything a computer could have produced because they actually have a human connection and people who actually are capable of liking the movie and the characters. That tag is my happy place and it is tainted by that monstrosity. Normally I would be incredibly annoyed no matter the fandom, but for Dead Poets Society?! Really?! The movie about how art is tied with humanity?! Did you watch the movie?! Every single character would be disgusted by the use of ai to produce art. Art doesn’t exist without humanity and some cheep to imitation is an insult to anyone that actually works to make art.
#Am I being harsh?#yes#am I being too harsh?#absolutely not!#if anything I’m not being nearly harsh enough#soulless empty things are not art#art needs a human connection#and if you want to see a rewrite of a story#write it yourself or see if someone else has!#and plenty of fix it fics exist in this fandom#chat gbt would break Keating’s heart#and if not all most of the poets would have strong feelings about how chat gbt makes art worse#it doesn’t fit at all with carpe diem#ai is not art#anti ai#anti chat gbt#Dead Poets Society#Neil is so passionate about poetry and acting and all art#and Todd is a poet for gods sake!#Anderperry would very much so not appreciate ai#Anderperry#and if you are the type of scum to post ai on ao3 then at least you should tag it so the rest of us can filter it out#no one with any brain cells wants to see that#I know I mostly lurk in this fandom but I care about it very much!#I don’t want it ruined by people who can’t use critical thinking#whoever posted this crap needs to delete it#I don’t care if anyone thinks this is mean#I’m right
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I really hate what Cameron did in this scene but I can’t lie, his eyelashes were eating 😍
#god I can’t stand this stupid movie#jk I live for whimsy#my favourite part is where neil runs away and frolicks through a flower field engulfed in whimsy#whimsy whimsy whimsy#I feel sick#cam I love u but no#for fricks sake I can’t watch this anymore#dead poets fandom#dead poets society#anderperry#dps#neil perry#todd anderson#writeblr#charlie dalton#Richard Cameron#Cameron#deadpoetssociety#robert sean leonard#rsl#Ethan Hawke#Dylan kussman#dps boys#dead poets aesthetic#dead poets#dead poets society fandom
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I would like to speak more about french toddy, as I feel it is a service need to be done:
obviously neil is over the moon, and he thinks todd speaking french is very,,,, nice
charlie makes fun of him incessantly for it and the way that he blushes
todd reads french poetry during dps meetings sometimes, and gives his own translation
during senior year, jeffrey and todd reconnect a bit, and they have weekly phone calls
everyone can hear this weekly phone call, as french people talk incredibly loudly (if you've never been around a french person you'd be surprised at how loudly they talk and laugh, and how slowly they walk. sorry french ppl, I still love y'all)
essentially, the spirit of a frenchie™️ possesses todds body when talking to his brother
he gets really flustered when the poets tell him that literally everyone can hear that he's having a conversation at the public phone and that people just don't understand anything
todd is a completely different person during those conversations, especially with body language, and how he talk to people
todd is a bit more confident when he speaks french, and it's been chalked up to the fact that it's the language of his childhood, a time he wasn't so anxious
todd, knoxious, and pitts watch french movies and listen to french music because of todd
they were the only two with any interest in engaging with french media, and todd is so happy to show them his favorite french things
knoxious because he thinks that french is more romantic, and the boy himself is an incredibly romantic guy
pitts because he just loves all movies, and all music, so it really wasn't that hard to get him on board with a whole other subset of music, just in a different language
neil tries his best to learn at least some french because he doesn't want todd to feel like he can't be comfortable around him
it's an attempt in trying to engage in the way todd grew up
todd really appreciates it, and it really is one of the nicest things someone's done for him, despite how broken neil's french actually is
neil attempted to learn a whole language for him for god's sake! is often the way that todd looks at it
I'll be happy to add more if people want it, and again, when I have time
#dps#todd anderson#french todd anderson#dead poets#dead poets society#neil perry#neil x todd#todd x neil#anderperry#charlie dalton#gerard pitts#knox overstreet#dead poets au#dead poets headcanons#my posts
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that reblog on tbe tlp and dps post i made had me pondering over it for 10 minutes and im about to explode PLEASE SHARE MORE OF YOUR THOUGHTS BECAUSE THEY ARE SO TRUE AAAA
oh my GOD happily i love yapping about this??????
okay first my credentials: i have watched dead poets society 200+ times (i stopped counting, but i have it completely memorised beat for beat), i’ve read the novelisation, i’ve watched the little prince 50+ times and it’s one of my comfort movies, watched it on the plane like two days ago, and i own eight copies of the book in five different languages <3 so
more thoughts below the cut
NOW
i will say there are more obvious parallels to draw between dps and the tlp movie BUT the book has the same innate messaging in a way that is very very special to me. gonna start off with the more obvious things and then get more niche and specific and i will TRY TO MAKE SENSE.
so movie-wise, the aviator serves as the keating figure without a doubt (i would argue this is true in the book as well, but as the book lacks the mother/daughter-little prince all grown up/weird silly second dimension plot line, this parallel is more nuanced and i need to explain it more deeply) and the little girl is neil (though. in the book. undoubtedly the little prince) and her mom is mr perry etc. TODD IS THE FOX IN BOTH THE MOVIE AND THE BOOK AND I WILL ELABORATE but for convenience sake im splitting this up into movie thoughts and book thoughts so they dont get muddled
movie:
one of my favourite things about the little prince movie even though it adds like a whole plot that is not in the children’s book is that it conveys the message of the book VERY well, and a message with THAT MUCH NUANCE is really hard to put through, especially in an animated children’s movie. that being said, i feel like a lot of people don’t really THINK about it, just in the sense of knowing there’s a vague message but not really dissecting it, especially not in the same way that people dissect dead poets society. which i think is really interesting because their messages are fundamentally REALLY similar, with the little prince talking a lot about keeping your mind from getting closed with age and never forgetting wonder and creativity and interest. letting yourself be propelled by knowledge but not in a way that prioritises practicality over pure joy, and then dead poets society specifically preaching (though i’m loathe to use that word) to OPEN your mind THROUGH wonder and creativity and interest, to actively prioritise the joy over practicality at any moment you CAN.
(emphasis on when you CAN, though, because as keating says, there’s a time to be cautious and a time to be daring. sucking the marrow out of life does not mean choking on the bone. which, incidentally, is very similar to something that the aviator mentions in the book, i’ll come back to that)
as such, both movies center a child who is bearing the burden of these undue expectations that for most of their lives up until the point in the movie, they’ve happily pushed themselves to meet in order to keep the peace in their lives. they were perfectly happy (to an extent) being the child they were being asked to be. that is, until someone ACTIVELY shows them there’s more to it than that.
in fact, while one of these is an animated face in which there is not a clear view of much but the eyes and the other is an actual person, these are screen grabs of both movies in the first moments in which they are exposed to that which is going to show them there’s more than that, and i’d be inclined to argue they’re very similar. mild shock overtaken by awe, fixed stare on what they’re consuming (as far as the first page of the little prince vs keating quoting whitman)
this is when they’re starting to realise that they are more than a machine to please the adults in their lives (who are also written very similarly, with, of course, one notable exception: the mother is the one who ultimately realises she was not being fair to her kid, whereas mr perry doubles down and… well. you know.)
this awe-riddled inspiration, the epiphany of the Creative World being real and something they’re allowed to explore and enjoy is facilitated by both the one who did the introduction (the aviator/keating) and support and camaraderie with someone else (the fox/the poets) (yes i know the fox does not technically talk, however, it is clearly a sentient creature in the movie that provides comfort and companionship to the little girl and therefore i will in fact argue that it counts)
NOW i know i said todd is the fox in both iterations but in the movie i dont think the fox is limited to parallels SOLELY with todd, for instance, it very much encourages the little girl to continue with the story, with the aviator, and while it is occasionally like, covering its eyes out of fright, it’s largely serving to push her out of her comfort zone. as such. the fox is both todd and charlie. (the other poets as well but less so in the sense that i can NAME them and draw specific parallels, so mostly todd and charlie)
it is absolutely no secret to us that charlie and todd are the ones closest to neil in the movie, and that charlie and neil’s closeness definitely pre-dates neil and todd’s, and charlie takes neil’s idea of doing the dead poets society and RUNS with it, (lovingly) bullies everyone into coming, gets it to happen and sort of yells over any doubt that neil could have had that he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. todd is supportive but wary, and while the fox in the movie is not in the same capacity as todd in this sense i think there are certainly scenes where we see it just sort of become overwhelmed with what’s going on (like the first time they mess with the plane)
i could go into depth about the whole grown up world thing but that would make this much much longer
the rest of my thoughts are very much related to both the book and the movie and thus i will continue but centre them on the book
book:
i mentioned the messages of the little prince compared to dead poets society above and i just think that’s such a big thing for me because they really do mirror each other and showcase similar thoughts, this idea of the aviator sort of being forced to pursue “practical” things (i think specifically the book cites arithmetic and geography? i can’t remember right this second but i know arithmetic is one of them) and how even though he WAS forced to sort of let go of his personality that was creative, he never really did. he just was careful with who he let see it. which is very keating coded tbh like let’s be real if nolan knew what he was like he NEVER would have gotten that job. but i think specifically because he knew this already and was sort of reminded of it by the little prince LEARNING it it’s very much neil and mr keating. this is why i really think todd is the fox, you have the whole conversation in the book about taming (which i know is kind of in the movie but the book centres it in a way that is slightly different)
to tame people is to change. i will be unique in all the world. to me you will be unique in all the world. you are responsible forever for what you have tamed. when you leave i will cry. etc etc etc
todd and neil tame EACH OTHER. obviously todd is not neil’s first friend, but they have a relationship clearly different from neil’s with the other poets (romantic headcanon or not) because they really have TAMED each other.
also. i think mr perry views neil as his rose. that’s a whole other dissertation.
but. i think the reality is that the movies/book both centre creativity and seeking to understand pure thought in a way that is like two sides of the same coin, but there’s such little overlap that maybe it doesn’t feel obvious?
at the end of the day, there’s really no convincing me that
“what is essential is invisible to the eye, it is only with the heart that one can see rightly”
is not in fact another iteration of
“we don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute…. medicine law business engineering…. poetry beauty romance love, these are what we stay alive for”
because they’re so similar at their hearts.
tldr: the little prince and dead poets society actually carry similar characterisation and messages and i think that speaks a lot about both pieces of media, especially considering that one is literally meant to be for children. it’s almost like tlp is a precursor to dps. a warning to which dps is the result of ignoring. if that makes sense. i’m not sure any of this made sense but THANK YOU FOR ASKING
#west text!#dead poets society#neil perry#todd anderson#john keating#the little prince#the aviator#antoine saint-exupery#i talked about this SO MUCH my bad#but these are my thoughts#there’s a lot of overlap for me#but maybe that’s because of how i interact with the media specifically#i will say though that i’m glad im not the only one who saw those correlations#anyway! thank you so much for the ask#asks🩷#btw absolutely feel free to ask any and all follow up questions i wrote this very quickly because i was excited#i’m actually wearing little prince earrings RIGHT NOW#that’s irrelevant i just wanted to share#dead poets society and the little prince are sooooo#maybe i’m just a burnt out gifted kid lol
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This is angst, I warn thou.
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Post DPS is quite an interesting discussion to have to be honest, because other than some hc's that some of the actors have, most of those are pretty much future/adult versions of the characters. And not post Neil's death, which means the remainder of their school lives including college.
But we're not gonna go past that, actually, we're just going a week after everything that happened, the week after Mr. Keating's departure and how the poets are all faring.
And this happens to be the topic of today's random angst from me, Charlie Dalton.
Because the thing is, Todd even if he's technically the most affected person out of all the remaining poets, Charlie's the close second, with Cameron being the third.
The three are trapped in their own personal hells.
First is Todd, he has the other remaining poets to be there for him, Meeks, Knox, and Pitts. Hell I'm sure with the stunt he has made at the ending I'm sure there were other kids in their class that he's definitely gotten to become friends with. Though his suffering is more on the side of the 'what-ifs'
What if he said something that night when Mr. Perry came and grabbed Neil from him?
What if he asked Mr. Keating to check up on Neil that night to see if he was okay?
Sure the others always make sure to check up on him to ask if he was alright or had he has eaten, mostly it was Knox who appears but that's due to the other's promise to Charlie. But no matter what he knew that they couldn't help him, it's not that he doesn't appreciate it, but it's the fact that they were not the ones who can help him.
Deep inside he knew what he wanted and knew how impossible his request is. How he knew that he needed Neil, that Neil would smile and tell him it'll be okay and they'll work through it, after all, it has always been Neil there to catch him when he falls in Welton, but now his absence felt so loud, so much so that the thought of it makes tears fall again.
Too many what-ifs and most of it is about that night. And as the years grew by he had grown to hate that day.
Second is Charlie, now the thing is his bravado, and how only two times we see it falter; during Mr. Keating's talk with him post Call from God, and post Neil.
Now, surely he can call or write to the poets but that's not the same, he's too far from them all for him to simply just leave and visit them, and definitely won't be welcomed in Welton by the staff. He's alone, in a new school, a new place filled with strangers when he himself has never fully recovered from Neil. And he doesn't know if he will.
Alone without the eyes of the people he truly trusts is when not only the bravado he's put on truly falls, but the darkness starts seeping in.
After all, everything has been his fault, if he didn't do that Phone call from God stunt Nolan wouldn't have known about their little group, and it wouldn't have jumpstarted the fear of being found out in Cameron's mind.
If he didn't do that then maybe Neil wouldn't have killed himself, because at this moment he feels like he's partly at fault for why Neil did it. How even when the logical side knew that Mr. Perry and hopelessness were the reason, he still blamed himself. He's Neil's bestfriend for Gods sakes! And he wasn't even able to do anything in the end.
And no he couldn't even protect Todd and the other remaining poets, because as much as it was satisfying, he didn't control himself before punching Cameron in the face.
In his room, in a new school, with faces unrecognizable, he felt alone. And yet, he knew deep inside that he need to get better, to be better.
But he prefers to suffer for now because he deserves it.
Lastly is Cameron, none of the other students truly know what happened and why Mr. Keating left, sure the students in the class with the poets overheard what Todd said, but no one knew the full context except the poets.
And that leaves Cameron on his and Char-
Oh right he's gone, Cameron got him expelled how can he forget?
This is just his room now.
It's funny because even if he's in the same building as the other poets, even if he's hurting the same as them, he's alone.
They couldn't even look at him, avoiding him like a plague and he can't help but feel hurt.
And he knows the reason why, and it's something that keeps plaguing his mind, which affects his ability to study, the one thing he only has going for him is being affected by the thing he's trying to run away from. And look at where it brought him.
He just wants everyone to understand his point of view, and why he did things that happened, and he knows that he's not one to ask forgiveness from others, and if he ever does ask he knows it's not a short journey there, this might even be a matter that will stay by his side his whole life, and he doesn't know what to do, for the first time in his life it was a problem that he can't solve by himself, it's not a thing that his brain can fix, he knows he needs- no he wants help.
But then he remembers he was back in his room, at the edge of the bed near the corners with him hugging his knees as tears fall from his cheeks and soft sobs escape his mouth that he is alone.
#dead poets society#todd anderson#neil perry#charlie dalton#knox overstreet#richard cameron#steven meeks#gerard pitts#dps
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okay so i finally managed to rewatch dead poets society after like more than a year (i turned it off right after midsummer night's dream ended for the sake of my sanity) and OH MY FUCKING GOD I DID NOT REMEMBER THIS MUCH QUEER SUBTEXT.
don't get me wrong i absolutely love it and maybe it's just me seeing things where there aren't any but????? cameron is so obviously in love with nuwanda???? have you guys seen his face in the scene with the girls in the cave and how ridiculously jealous he looks???? and it's not even the first scene where cam looks jealous????
AND ALSO NUWANDA IS CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH KNOX. his face when knox is on the phone with chris????? him playing the sax while kneeling in front of knox in the cave????? i mean??????
and that's just the stuff with these three idiots i'm not even getting into anderperry cause those two are way worse.
IT'S A 1989 MOVIE HOW DID THEY EVEN MANAGE TO PUT THIS MUCH GAYNESS IN IT??? I DON'T KNOW BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH THANK YOU TO THE OBLIVIOUS IDIOT WHO LET IT PASS AND THOUGHT ALL THOSE HEART EYES AT EACH OTHER WERE JUST BRO STUFFtm
i honestly feel bad for meeks and pitts cause, as the dads of the group who mostly have their shit together, they're the ones destined to sigh in exasperation and watch the poetic mess that is "neil and todd staring at each other in loving adoration while very much not talking about it and pretending it's tOtaLly pLatONic" and the train wreck that is "cam likes nuwanda but nuwanda likes knox but knox likes chris and all of them suffer in silence". i mean. those poor nerds need a break from the disaster that is their best friends' love lives.
#dead poets society#dps fandom#dps#dps headcanons#dead poets headcanons#richard cameron#charlie dalton#nuwanda#knox overstreet#chris noel#neil perry#todd anderson#steven meeks#gerard pitts#mitts#chameron#knarlie#charlie x knox#charlie x cameron#todd and neil#neil and todd#anderperry#todd x neil#neil x todd#chet danburry#ginny danburry#meeks x pitts
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Here's an alternative Dead Poets Society ending because we all have a thing with depressing ourselves for no reason... oh well were we go:
It was a cold night... after Neil's death, Todd didn't know what to do. He felt helpless, he wasn't there for him when he needed it and now he had lost him forever. He took a stroll down the campus and he saw some wood remains on the floor, it was the desk set that Todd had trown off the roof. He felt overwhelmed with memories, and began to think... Neil didn't deserve any of it, he simply started doing what makes him happy for once... Neil was always there for everyone, always with a smile on his face, he always made everyone around him happy but the one time he did something for himself... *Todd stopped there* he had helped Todd more than he knew... the desk set, when he was struggling with his poetry... God, he didn't even wanna go to the secret cave with them, where would he be now without him? The fact is that he (Todd) couldn't help him the one time he needed him. Todd went back to his room and decided to honour Neil in the only way he knew: through poetry. He began writing but he never felt the poems were good enough and he kept on ripping it off and starting over... if Neil were there he would put his hand on his shoulder and give him the reassurance he needs... but he wasn't. That's why he needed to work hard. Eventually he ran out of paper and he went to Neil's desk to get a sheet of paper... he slowly passed his hand on the worn wood... opened the drawer and grabbed what he needed. He then saw through the corner of his eye something white with his name written on it. He, curiously, opened it. It was a letter... Todd felt his heart ache and his eyes filling up with tears. He slowly and passionately opened the letter...
Todd, I don't know if you'll ever read this, but if I ever let you open that drawer I must of did what I'm thinking on doing... *Todd paused* I can't imagine the pain I have caused you, but I couldn't help it... I couldn't live a life prived of what I want, of what makes me happy... I hope you understand. I'm writing you this letter cause you were more a friend to me than anyone at Welton. I remember the first time I saw you, a shy kid who couldn't say a thing for the sake of it... I never thought I would grow so fond of you. And here I am writting you a letter... Todd, I lived my whole life afraid of what my parents would think of me... don't. You have potential, Todd Anderson. You will make a great name of yourself... and that's why I want you to have this. *Todd unwrapped what came with the letter to find a notebook* I want you to write your poems here... or if you want to tell me something, for I would love still being with you sharing your sucess and watching you grow, imagine this notebook contains my soul... I am there represented... you write in there and I hear it. I'll be there with you in presence, of a notebook. God, we are poets, I'm sure our wild imagination can pull that off. Oh, and don't tell the boys I wrote you letter, you know they would laugh at me ;)
With love,
Neil Perry.
Todd grabbed the notebook and hugged it crying... he made a vow to himself to always remember Neil and keep him alive in spirit. He would write on it every chance he can, and keep a picture of them on the hall desk of his place, when he had kids he would tell them about him, Neil Perry would never be forgotten on the heart of Todd Anderson.
#im crying#why do I do this to myself#I was so thinking of writing#and I love you romantically oop#on the letter#but I have self control#barely#oh well#cry with me#dead poets society#alternative ending#dps#potmfavs
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Have you watched Dead Poets' Society? If not pleaseeeeee watch it.
hehe I finally got to watch that film. So let me rant about it here.
also some triggrer warnings cause you cant be too carefull.
tw suicide , sexual assault, children/teen abuse
so let’s start.
why do i get such british vibes from an american movie? like this could easily have taken place in oxford or something
(on neil meeting the new kid):please be gay, please be gay, please b *remembers when this movie was releashed* okay please be gay at least subtextually.
i have the feeling that some of the kids is gonna die by the end. I have this weird hunch that one of them is gonna hurt himself and his close friend is gonna be all sad and screaming why etc(have i seen parts of the movie before or is it a hunch you develop after watching a shit-ton of films??I have no idea)
oh hey here’s robin williams(love this man)
ooh shit the “oh captain , my captain “ scene.
how did they fell for the talking pictures of the dead shit?!
oookaaay some straight romance .....okaaay i dont really care
I NEED ROBIN WILLIAMS AS MY LITTERATURE TEACHER NOOOOOW
okay something’s up with neil and todd. I am getting they were roomates vibes
HE MADE THEM WRITE A POEM??? AND READ IT IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CLASS?!?!?! I WOULD HAVE DIED OF ANXIETY AND EMBARRASSMENT
oh neil is gonna play puck in midsummer’s night dream.Love that for him.The role suits him. He’s gonna be great.
okay the scene where Robin Willaims makes Todd make poetry was *chef’s kiss*
kjwdhqwgedhgew todd and neil are so cuuuute i can’t even jdhHDJhgdkJCSgdfjG
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT MF DOING?WHY IS HE KISSING THE GIRL WHO IS ASLEEP?!?!? THAT’S ASSAULT SIR.
omg why is sexual assault so underplayed in film.(i am gonna ignore their scenes from now on because they turned this into a romance and i dont want to spend the whole post pointing out how disgusting and wrong that is)
ANOTHER CANDIDATE FOR UTHER’S CLUB OF GOD AWFUL FATHERS. WTF IS NEIL’S DAD DOING?? DOES HE CALL THIS PARENTING?!?!?!FUCK YOU SIR .JUST FUCK YOU AND YOUR GODDAMNED EGO THAT IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR ACTUAL CHILD.FUCK YOU.
I like neil’s acting Good for him. Go off Neil.
i wanna beat the shit out of this father
oh shit i hope it isn’t neil the one who will die.
oh no
nooooooooo
wtf is his father doing?!?!??
wtf are you doing to your son sir?????????
fucking awful parents
please dont die neil. please dont
oh no. i dont like the music.is that a g-
OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. FUCK NO. NO. NO.NO.NO.
F U C K
HJGSDAHJAGDHGDJGJGSAJKDSjgdkjGD
i am so fucking angry.
neil deserved better parents for fucks sake
neil deserved better period.
no my boy. no.
i am angry and sad
fuck.
oh no todd. my other boy. no.
fuck
f u c k
God i hate this fucking rat. I get that you’re in shock mate but you cant just go and help them frame robin williams for something he did not do.
oh i love how they’re saying it was robin willims fault.Yes. Abusive father had noting to do with it.uuuuugh
NOOOOO DONT SIGH THE PAPER TODD NOOOOOOOOO
that last scene >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Well all in all pretty good film.I like how they exposed the damaging concequences that uther-parenting can have to a kid.I loooooove Robin Williams’ character and how the movie says a big fuck-you to education systems which only want to mold obedient subjects and not actual critical thinkers. I even like how it doesnt have a happy ending as this is what happens in life. You try to make a change , almost everyone else is like 🎶stick to the status quo🎶 , then you get shit for even trying but the change is there. You did actually achieve someting, even if it feels like you have been defeated(they did fire robin williams from the school) you have actually achieved something(as indicated by the last “oh captain, my captain scene”).
My only big concern with the film is how it treated the sexual assault scene and that subplot in general but that’s a much bigger issue in hollywood that i cannot and will not try to touch in this post.
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hey! i saw ur anon about the poets on vacay and i was wondering what you think they would do at like a rock concert.
omg yes !
so Keating scores the tickets for them (because favourites) and they’re absolutely stoked because who would want to pass up an opportunity to go to a concert w the homies, even if rock isn’t your favourite genre.
so they pullup to the venue, which is in the open, in their (Charlie’s) heavily modified Cadillac (because rich bitch), blasting whatever records were at hand. Meeks drives because he’s the only one competent enough to not crash.
so a quarter of the way through they’re all off their shits. Todd, Meeks and Neil only know the songs because Charlie, Knox and Pitts jammed out to them on the reg. they’re cheering like crazy. during one of the more mellow and calm love songs Todd and Neil kiss, and everyone cheers. Charlie somehow bumps into a security guard and goes “oooh daddy” only to be ignored because god knows what he’s on. it’s just the adrenaline. Richard is kicked out for trying to sneak around and cause trouble because he’s a rat. Knox bumps into a girl in the dark and apologizes. she tells him he’s hot. they make out. the girl turns out to be Charlie in a wig (he traded it for his “be gay do crime” sign). they’re too far gone to care. Meeks and Pitts made a beeline for the drinks, and are currently chugging way too much soda and beer. someone is hooking up in the bathroom. the band is off their shits. he’s singing the song lying down for fucks sake. nothing makes sense. everyone is too faded to even start making sense of what’s going on. they don’t even care. what the fuck is going on. it’s all a surreal dream. it’s chaos.
#dead poets society#dead poets society meme#Mr. Keating#Neil Perry#Todd Anderson#Charlie Dalton#Knox Overstreet#Steven Meeks#Gerard Pitts#Richard Cameron#drunk poets society shots
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13, anderperry ;)
Hi!! It’s the first time ever that I post a fic on Tumblr. It’s really exciting. For this, I made Neil and Todd as theater partners. Let’s say that Welton regularly do theater and you know, since it’s a all boys school, someones gotta play the girl. I got inspired by Tom Hiddlestone’s story about how Eddie Redmayne played a girl in a all boys school theater show. So, get ready!
Send me a ship from IT or Dead Poets Society and I’ll write a fic!
———
Todd wasn’t sure about the whole theater thing until Neil approached him.
“You’ve gotta do it!” Neil said, while holding the script in his hands. “It’s Shakespeare for Christ’s sake!”
Todd rolled his eyes and continued looking up on the ceiling. “Yeah but what about the role, huh? It’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t they find a girl outside school? I mean, Steven could do it too.”
He heard Neil’s giggle. “Meeks would only stutter, in fact, I can’t imagine him in a wig.”
“What makes you imagine me? Do I look like a girl? Is that what you’re trying to say?” Todd finally looked away from the ceiling to his roommate.
“No, that’s not what I am trying to say. Also, there’s no such a thing like ‘look like a girl’. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He had one his charming smiles on his face. “Let’s say you have a charm.”
“Charm of a girl?” “Charm of beauty.” Todd huffed and stood up. “It doesn’t make any fucking sense.”
“You’re pretty is all I’m trying to say.” Neil looked into Todd’s eyes and smiled widely. “And it’s a good thing, you’re different.”
Todd gulped and grabbed the script out of Neil’s hands. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot.” He opened a random page and tried to act like he doesn’t what Neil just said or in general, what he thinks about him. “But I’m only doing it because Keating said that it would effect out grades, that’s all.”
Neil immediately hugged his roommate. “Yes! Thank god! Go to Mr. Keating! I bet he would be really happy as well.”
———
“Hey Juliet, mind if I say, you look so pretty tonight!” Todd heard his friend, Charlie Dalton yell into the whole hall.
“Mr. Dalton, please, would you mind keeping it quiet?” Mr. Keating turned around to face one his favorite students with a calm smile on.
“Sorry, Mr. Keating. Won’t happen again.” Charlie grinned. He was sitting next to his friend, Knox Overstreet. Knox covered his mouth to stop his laughter. It wasn’t helping much.
“Todd, don’t listen to them. You look great.” Mr. Keating whispered to his worried student who had a huge blonde wig with a braid. “We need to have one last rehearsal and then we are done.”
Neil walked up behind Todd’s back and held one of his shoulders. “It’s been going great Mr. Keating.”
Mr. Keating just smiled and nodded. “Well, beware of the kissing scene. I didn’t let you two kiss, because I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable but please try to do it natural on the stage. You don’t have to feel ashamed.” He left before his students would reply back.
“You heard him, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Neil smiled at his co-star. “It will last in a second. You’ve done that before, right?”
Todd gulped. “Yeah, sure.” His friend didn’t seem to believe it but he went along with it.
“It’s not much of a romantic kiss, you know. Just play along.”
———
“Your hand is like a holy place that my hand is unworthy to visit. If you’re offended by the touch of my hand, my two lips are standing here like blushing pilgrims, ready to make things better with a kiss.” Todd felt like he was going to faint when Neil said these words to him for the hundredth time. He knew that nothing has changed over the script, but now they were on the stage, people were watching them and they were going to finally kiss.
“Good pilgrim, you don’t give your hand enough credit. By holding my hand you show polite devotion. After all, pilgrims touch the hands of statues of saints. Holding one palm against another is like a kiss.”
“Don’t saints and pilgrims have lips too?”
“Yes, pilgrim—they have lips that they’re supposed to pray with.”
“Well then, saint, let lips do what hands do. I’m praying for you to kiss me. Please grant my prayer so my faith doesn’t turn to despair.” They heard some of the people from the crowd cheer. With Charlie’s lead.
“Saints don’t move, even when they grant prayers.”
“Then don’t move while I act out my prayer.” Todd gulped and slowly turned his face towards Neil. He had a half smile, which turned Todd on, leaned towards to him. They both closed their as they kissed each other. Neil’s lips were gentle and warm. Todd didn’t think Neil had the same pleasure as he did. Todd felt butterflies in his stomach.
“Now my sin has been taken from my lips by yours.” Neil as Romeo said. Whole crowd went crazy about it. Everyone was cheering and some of them were whistling.
“Then do my lips now have the sin they took from yours?”
“Sin from my lips? You encourage crime with your sweetness. Give me my sin back.” Todd could see that Neil’s eyes were sparkling. He was a great actor, indeed. Even his eyes could act better than Todd. They leaned forward to each other for an another kiss but this time, more intense. Todd held Neil’s cheek as he held his waist.
———
The play went well. Neil did good as always and Todd was unsure of himself, as always. After they closed the stage and claps went away, all the cast members were by themselves, talking about how the night was so epic.
“I want to thank everyone,” Mr. Keating made a surprise entrance. “who helped us along the way and of course, all of you. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t cherish Shakespeare’s work.” Everyone started to clap.
Neil glanced at Todd for a second. They both had wiped away their makeup but Todd still looked glamorous. Maybe it was the effect of the stage.
———
“It was amazing! I can’t-“ Neil was still energetic after they walked into their dorm room.
Todd only giggled but he still felt weird after their many amounts of kisses on the stage that night. Neil was his first kiss and some of the things about this was making him feel weird. First of all, he had to do it in front of the whole school. Secondly, it was with Neil. Thirdly, he was a guy, fourth he was his roommate. And lastly, he enjoyed it. He couldn’t exactly verify that he wouldn’t have enjoyed the kiss if it was with a girl because he had never kissed one but even though he had all of those weird feelings inside of him, he was glad that he had to do it first with Neil.
“Can’t you hear me?” Neil touched Todd’s shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.” Todd shrugged. “It was really great, thank you for pushing me to get my act on.”
“No worries, in fact, I think you should join the drama club.”
“Never in a million years.” Todd smiled lightly. “It was only one time thing. First and the last.”
Neil sat down on his bed and stared at Todd for a while. “Was it the first?”
“Yeah, I just said it. First and the last.”
“I didn’t mean the play. I meant the kiss.” Todd gulped and looked Neil in the eye. He nodded and quickly looked away.
“I knew it.” Neil smirked. “I hope it was okay for you, because it was for me.”
“Really?” “Yeah, maybe more than okay.” “You’re just saying that to make me feel okay.”
Neil stood up and now he was taller than Todd. “Would I do this if I just wanted make you feel better?”
He leaned over to the shorter guy to kiss him again after the play. It was more soft and real than the ones they shared before.
Todd backed away slowly. “Why did you do that?”
Neil bit his bottom lip. “Because I wanted to make sure if you would want to do it a dozen of time in the future. I had to make it clear.”
Todd giggled. “I’d like that.” Their foreheads were touching. “Actually, I want one more.”
They smiled into their kiss as Todd hand went through Neil’s hair.
He knew that this story wasn’t like a story that Shakespeare has written but it was a story that his story had caused.
And he couldn’t thank Shakespeare, Mr. Keating and Welton (for not having girls in the school) enough.
#kdskfkskfnsk#i’ve never read romeo and juliet#what is this mess#this is horrific#eeww#dead poets society#neil perry#todd anderson#knox overstreet#charlie dalton#john keating#anderperry#fanfic#oneshot
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Dead Poets Society: Neil x OC: part 5
masterlist
complete series
A couple of minutes into our lunch, Neil joins all of us sitting at the table, and sits down on my right. He pulls out a yearbook, ‘Hey, I found his senior annual in the library.’ He hands the annual over to Cameron who laughs at the younger picture of Keating.
‘Listen to this, captain of the soccer team, editor of the school annual, Cambridge bound, Thigh man, and the Dead Poets Society.’ with that he takes a bite of his food. I try not to giggle at the scene happening in front of me.
‘Man most likely to do anything’, Cameron reads from the annual.
‘Thigh man. Mr. K was a hell-raiser’, Charlie confirms.
‘What's the Dead Poets Society?’ Knox asks.
‘I don't know. Do you know Evangeline?’ Neils asks, turning to me.
‘Sworn to secrecy’, I smile innocently at him.
That made Neils head snap back to me. His eyes had this spark in them, and I couldn’t quite identify it.
‘Is there a picture in the annual?’ Meeks asks breaking the silence and gaining Neils attention back after a moment.
‘Nothing’, Neil says finally, ‘No other mention of it.’
‘That boy there, see me after lunch’, we hear Mr Nolan call out suddenly. Cameron quickly puts the annual away and we all return to their meal, but not before I notice Neil stealing another glance at me.
During the meal, Neil and the other boys try to get any information out of me about my dad but I just smile. But finally after lunch: ‘fine if you won’t tell us, we’ll ask him ourselves...And you’re coming with us.’ with that he takes hold of my hand and pulls me along with him as he leads the group outside. Keating is walking down towards the lake, whistling the same tune as before. The boys emerge from the building and chase after him.
‘Mr. Keating? Mr. Keating? Sir?’, Neil called after my father as we move to catch up with him, then he glances at me and calls out: ‘Oh Captain, My Captain?’
This causes my dad to immediately turn around, ‘Gentlemen��� ow and Daughter.’ The boys laugh, and I smiled.
‘We were just looking in your old annual’, Neil says, handing him the the annual and my father looks at his old photograph. ‘Oh my God’, my dad gasps, ‘No, that's not me. Stanley "The Tool" Wilson.’ he mumbles to himself as he crouches down and continues looking through the book, ‘God.’
Neil lets go of my hand and crouches down next to Keating, I put my hand on his shoulder, slightly leaning on him.
‘What was the Dead Poets Society?’ Neil asks carefully.
‘I doubt the present administration would look too favorably upon that’, my dad answers smiling.
‘Why?’ Neil asks, ‘What was it?’
‘Did you tell them anything, dear?’ Dad asks me, and I shake my head no, ‘Gentlemen, can you keep a secret?’
‘Sure’, Neil says, at the same time the other boys crouch down around my father, I follow suite.
‘The Dead Poets were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life. That's a phrase from Thoreau that we'd invoke at the beginning of each meeting. You see we'd gather at the old Indian cave and take turns reading from Thoreau, Whitman, Shelley; the biggies. Even some of our own verse. And in the enchantment of the moment we'd let poetry work its magic..’
‘You mean it was a bunch of guys sitting around reading poetry?’
‘No Mr. Overstreet, it wasn't just "guys", we weren't a Greek organization, we were romantics. We didn't just read poetry, we let it drip from our tongues like honey. Spirits soared, women swooned, and gods were created, gentlemen, not a bad way to spend an evening eh? Thank you Mr. Perry for this trip down amnesia lane. Burn that, especially my picture.’ My dad hands Neil back the annual and starts to walk away. We all get back up, though Neil remains crouched, he seems in a slight daze, ‘Dead Poets Society’, I hear him whisper.
‘What?’ Cameron questions.
The school bells begin ringing and everyone heads back towards the school. Neil stands up, ‘I say we go tonight’, he says confidently.
‘Tonight?’ Charlie questions.
‘Wait a minute’, Cameron panics.
'Where's this cave he's talking about?’ Pitts asks.
‘It's beyond the stream. I know where it is’, Neil states.
‘That's miles’, Pitts objects as we all start to our way towards the door.
‘Sounds boring to me’, Cameron sighs.
‘Don't go’, Charlie opts.
‘You know how many de-merits we're talking Dalton’, Cameron objects again.
‘So don't come, please’, Charlie insists.
‘Look, all I'm saying is that we have to be careful, we can't get caught.’, Cameron states.
‘No shit, Sherlock’, Charlie jokes.
‘You boys there, hurry up’, Hager yells.
Neil turns around and faces the us, ‘All right, who's in?’
‘Come on Neil, Hager's right-’ Cameron tries to protest but Neil cuts him off, ‘Forget Hager, no. Who's in?’ Neil smiles, his eyes have that sparkle in them that I’ve come to recognize as excitement.
‘I’m in’, I say, without a second thought. Neil glances at me and winks, I try to hide my blush.
‘me too’, Charlie chimes in.
‘I'm warning you, move’, Hager calls out again.
‘Me too’, Cameron states, though he seems reluctant.
‘I don't know Neil’, Pitts mumbles, passing Neil as we start to jog our way back to the building.
‘What? Pitts- ‘, Neil tries to object.
‘Pitsie, come on’, Charlie adds.
‘His grades are hurting Charlie’, Meeks tells his friend.
‘You can help him Meeks’, Neil states.
‘What is this, a midnight study group?’ Pitts asks sarcastically.
‘Forget it Pitts, you're coming’, Neil presses, ‘Meeks, are your grades hurting too?
‘I'll try anything once’, Meeks states.
‘Except sex’, charlie jokes.
‘Ha ha ha’, meeks laughs sarcastically.
‘I mean as long as we're careful’, Cameron states.
That evening we are all gathered around one of the tables with a map laid out on it.
‘Okay, follow the stream to the waterfall’, Neil explains, ‘It's right there. It's got to be on the banks’
‘I don't know, it's starting to sound dangerous’, Cameron objects hesitantly.
‘Well, why don't you stay home?’ Charlie states getting annoyed by Cameron.
‘For God's sake stop chattering and sit down’, Mr Mc Allister commands.
We all take their seats once again and Neil leaves my side and goes over and sits next to Todd, who is sitting by himself. I can’t hear what he says, but I can see Neil glancing back and forth between us and Todd. After a while Neil gets up and rejoins us, sitting down in the empty chair next to me. I am vaguely aware of his arm resting alone the back of my chair.
‘Oh shut up, will you’, says again after apparently hearing us whispering again.
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#dead poets society#dead poets#Dead Poets Honor#neil#neil perry#neil x reader#neil imagine#neil headcanons#neil headcanon#neil perry imagine#neil perry x reader#neil perry headcanons#neil perry headcanon
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The Sublime Kellyanne
Before I start talking about Kellyanne Conway, I will state the obvious: She is a terrible cog in a terrible machine. She is making the world worse, so much worse than all the dreadful imaginings we are still trying to deny. She’s awful. I get it.
And yet, she is both fascinating and incredibly important. If we don’t figure out what to do with Kellyanne - that is, if our media and political machine does not figure out what to do with Kellyanne - the trouble we are in is going to be that much bigger.
I don’t think people will ever stop arguing about what finally won Trump the election - the disaffected white working class, Clinton’s failure to campaign in the Rust Belt, racism, sexism, Comey, Russians. But the fact of the matter is that Trump would have been in no position to capitalize on September and October if Kellyanne hadn’t righted his ship in July and August. She was a brilliant manager - of the candidate, the message, and the campaign.
And now she is a brilliant communicator on his behalf. Ok, ok, I hear you all getting irate. But you have to remember that she’s not talking to you. She does not give a shit about you. (Did you see that outfit? With the pussy buttons? That is a woman who does. not. care. what. you. think. And, yes, I admire her for that.)
Kellyanne is laser-focused on her purpose, which is to promote the president uber alles, and she will let nothing and nobody stand in her way. (Yup, I admire that too.)
Let’s take that Chuck Todd interview. Did you actually watch it, or did you just read the memes? Because I watched it, and she was masterful. First, I think the phrase “alternative facts” was a mistake. Watch her face, carefully. I think she meant to say something along the lines of “different facts” in order to set up a conflict over which facts were correct. But Kellyanne does not back down, so she went with it, and you can bet that as we are going batshit with our analyses, critiques, and memes, she is going to be figuring out how to work it.
But what she did next was where she triumphed. She shifted to her facts: women in poverty, schools...I can’t remember the others and I don’t feel like watching again, but she was laying out Trump’s vision of a disastrous America that needs to be fixed, and Todd let her do it, continuing to hammer on Spicer’s lies, about which she and the Americans she’s talking to give. no. fucks.
[Sidenote: As an educator deeply committed to public schools, I thought the most chilling phrase in the inauguration speech was “an education system flush with cash, but which leaves our young and beautiful students deprived of all knowledge.” But that’s for another post.]
Kellyanne totally won that interview. She left Todd sputtering. And she’s going to leave all of them sputtering unless they stop trying to push their interview agendas and follow hers. When she pivots, go with her. Challenge her statements, not someone else’s yesterday statements. Ask her for her sources, ask her how she knows, ask her what she’s going to do about it. She’s going to keep pivoting, she’s going to keep lying, she’s going to keep her cool, but be as polite and charming as she is, have the conversation she wants to have, follow her down her winding streets, and undermine her at every single corner. You can’t tell her she’s wrong, but you can show how wrong she is.
And now here’s my pivot.
When I say I love Kellyanne, people get irate. They say things like “Goebbels was good at his job; would you have loved Goebbels?” and I say for god’s sake, of course not. And I try to come up with a retort and I fail, or I nuance my language and say “I’m fascinated with Kellyanne” or “Kellyanne is important,” because I don’t want people to hate me or think I’m stupid, but really it’s more than that.
Then, as I was thinking about a couple of recent such conversations, I remembered the Burkean sublime. As someone who used to teach the Romantics, the sublime for me is Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, and the Alps - I’d taught those poems for years, and then I first saw the Alps, where, like those poets, I grasped in a moment the conjoining of magnificence and terror that is the awe that is the heart of the sublime. Can you see where I’m going?
So I started reading and here’s a bit of what I found, though I highly recommend reading it all (and you should know, if you don’t already, that Edmund Burke is the Enlightenment father of conservative political philosophy):
Whatever is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain, and danger, that is to say, whatever is in any sort terrible, or is conversant about terrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is a source of the sublime; [source]
I know of nothing sublime, which is not some modification of power. [source]
Here’s some more, about the sublime and the beautiful, two “ideas which are capable of making a powerful impression on the mind”:
For sublime objects are vast in their dimensions, beautiful ones comparatively small: beauty should be smooth and polished; the great, rugged and negligent; beauty should shun the right line, yet deviate from it insensibly; the great in many cases loves the right line, and when it deviates it often makes a strong deviation: beauty should not be obscure; the great ought to be dark and gloomy: beauty should be light and delicate; the great ought to be solid, and even massive. [source]
Are you feeling the Kellyanne? Because I sure am. I do think we, writ large, have been relatively reasonable in not engaging Kellyanne’s looks. And I’m going to be very careful about the topic here, addressing her appearance only as relevant to my argument. But there’s no question that her gender and her pronounced femininity - did you see the cleavage in that Chuck Todd interview? have you noticed how she completely eschews the American politica [sic] power suit for the dress appropriate to a bridge luncheon? and keep in mind the four children - is one of the tools she wields most carefully. Hell, she’s got long blond hair, the essence of American beauty.
If you look carefully at that description of the difference between the sublime and the beautiful, you can see Kellyanne in every single phrase, whether straight up or warped. She counfounds all our categories, and that is why she is so very dangerous.
Hate Kellyanne all you want, but if we keep acting on the premise of hatred, we’ll get nowhere. What we need to do is figure out how to battle her on the terrain of the sublime.
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Horror For Horror’s Sake
Looking at the (albeit few) films I’ve chosen to review, the ones I’ve been willing to dive into blind, the expectedly shitty ones I’ve willing put up with, it’s fair to say I have a bias to exploring horror films more than other genres. At the very least I’m more interested in exploring scary movies when looking for something to watch than other genres. And in some ways, they’re more rewarding on a base level than say, romantic dramas that are equally good or bad. I’m sure Death Note is worse than Tulip Fever, but lord knows I’m not gonna go watching the latter for “fun” the way I got wine drunk with friends and tore at that racist, unscary piece of shit. On the other side of that spectrum, I went and saw It with that same dynamic duo as Death Note roughly a week later and had a ball, premised around actually having a wonderful time with a great film that all of us liked on its own merits and as an adaptation. It was all we talked about during dinner, and if I didn’t have to run home before meeting them at Tommy’s place we probably would’ve talked about it even longer. The film is a monumental step up from the original TV adaptation (obvs), but I sincerely hope that we’re at a place where the culture can stop being as reverential as it is with Tim Curry’s performance - one I liked but couldn’t quite be impressed by - in favor of the truly horrifying wraith that Bill Skarsgard has created. Andy Muschietti deserves plenty of credit for Pennywise too, but also for negotiating such a dense source novel, a mostly child cast, a more elastic range of tones than necessary, a time period wholly original to this adaptation, plus all the hokum reputation surrounding the author, and doing justice to all of it. Never in my life would I have expected the director of Mama to have succeeded in marshalling all of that into such a purely enjoyable, scary, funny, and utterly full film as It. Yes, it’s not perfect in parcelling out equal screen time to every member of The Loser’s Club or establishing what their lives are like when they aren’t hanging out together, but if that’s the worst this film has going for it, I’m absolutely delighted to recommend it to everyone and go along with friends who’re too scared to see it alone. Maybe with a red balloon in hand, and a severed arm to hold it for me.
I originally intended this to be a sort of two-shot with mother! but, given how absolutely insane that film is and the likelihood I’m going to ferry David along someday soon, I’m going to put off a formal review of it until another showing. I think I have my reaction to it sorted out, though another trek through it would do me good. The last scenes recontextualize the whole film so fully, even one as bluntly allegorical as that one, I think it’d be worth checking out again before I dive into it. With that being said, and to give me something fun to write about, I’m gonna just jot down some favorite memories of horror films I’m really in love with. You can consider this a recommendation list, I’d be more than happy to elaborate on full-throttle reviews and explanations of any of these films. Hopefully there’ll be another list of five tomorrow. Either way, sit back and enjoy the ride, dear reader.
To start off with the recentest features, I think one of It’s greatest successes it that each of its characters has pretty individualized embodiments of fear that Pennywise deploys, each scene delivering its own unique terror. That being said, there’s no way the film’s most utterly terrifying scene isn’t its first, where Pennywise lures poor Georgie into reaching out his hand for a little paper boat. For all I said at the top about Bill Skarsgård’s interpretation of It - and I’ll be shocked if I don’t write up this performance on my year-end list - credit must also be given to Jackson Robert Scott’s sweet, almost saccharine take on Georgie Denbrough. Watching Pennywise somehow circle this poor child even from within a sewer grate, convincingly entrancing by the standard of a six year old even if he can’t help but notice how unhinged this clown is, it’s maybe the only film I’ve been around for the release of that palpably conjured the same kinds of lumps in my gut I got watching Ileana Douglas and Juliette Lewis wrangle with Robert De Niro in Cape Fear (minus all the sexual overtures of Cape Fear, thank god). It’s the only time Pennywise is patient enough to even try and lure in his prey like this, more eager to eat the boy than he is to prey off his fear. The tension here is so efficiently realized I had to wonder what a version of It that drew out a few more of these encounters into their own short films would look like. A little longer, sure, but when the result is more scenes that make your skin crawl and your stomach churn, we’d all be winners.
mother! was an insanely vexing experience, purposely so, but in many ways a virtuoso one. A lot of it comes down to how marvelously it’s crafted, plus Michelle Pfeiffer’s deliciously crafted turn as a home invader, and I’d love more time to sit and think about Aronofsky’s script. Pfeiffer is the only ingredient missing in the film’s most stunningly crafted scene, where the house of Jennifer Lawrence’s nameless character is beset by an seemingly infinite swarm of her husband’s idolaters. Her painstakingly assembled home, one she made all by herself with her own two hands, is torn apart by the mob of fans proclaiming the poet’s will of sharing all that he has. One hangs up the phone as she calls the police only for another to yank it out of the wall, each hurling the philosophy of sharing at the other to justify their actions as though the other is stupid for not expecting them to do this. The police arrive a few minutes after, and suddenly her house seems to be divided into factions of SWAT members, violent cabals of her husband’s words, and those directly loyal to him. It’s almost impossible to imagine how long this sequence takes, especially since mother! often presents its sequences as though they’re happening in real time, but it’s stupendously mounted and realized by everyone involved. The transformation of Lawrence’s home from an idyllic, rustic nest for her and her hubby into a war-torn wreckage plucked straight from Children of Men isn’t the film’s scariest scene - that would be everything immediately after something delicate is inevitably, disastrously shown off - but on a sheer technical level it’s the film’s most impressively realized scene, and one of many I can’t shake for the life of me.
If you’ve never seen [safe], I beg you to go see it right now. Surely everyone who loved Carol has gone back and examined some of Todd Haynes’s filmography, if not looked up his Wikipedia page and seen this film, whose heroine has the same first name as his 2015 masterpiece. [safe] is about as asphyxiating and antagonistic to the audience (while still being immensely hypnotic) as any film can get, and one I had difficulty rewatching last semester in the hopes of finding a screencap to use for an art project. I ended up not using what I got, but there’s so many indelible moments picking one feels difficult, let alone throwing my hands up and just reveling in what Haynes’ direction does to make the film so menacing. And yet, there’s that one object that I instantly thought of for this little piece, in some ways the one that convinced me to do it at all. Early in [safe], Carol White (a genius Julianne Moore) orders a couch to her house and starts to help the movers arrange it in her house, only to find that it’s seemingly the most antagonistic shade of black on the planet. Carol is horrified to see this thing in her carefully constructed beige palace, as was I when I first saw it. Never has an ordinary couch been so pointy and prickly and out-of-place and threatening in a film, and never have I wanted to leave a room so much once I saw it. Pressing against everything pale and beige and carefully styled in her home, this couch doesn’t just look out of place but as alien and invasive as any of the houseguests in mother!, and even more unwanted. [safe] isn’t necessarily a horror film, but it’s still the most unsettling feature on this list, one that’s even more horrifying for all that it has to say on the human experience, and for the tremendous filmmaking (and actressing) that makes it such a seminal, terrifying film.
Suspiria, on the other hand, is nothing if not an exercise in how many scary, go-for-broke aesthetics you can grate against each other and mold together and throw at the audience at once. The production design can be summed up as though the art directors of Wes Anderson and Pedro Almodovar had a child that was trying to kill you, specifically, but of course the real star of this entry is the vicious score of Dario Argento and the band Goblin. Much like Get Out, you have the distinct feeling that somehow the score itself is going to slaughter our hero before the actual forces of evil hunting them do. Even in scenes that don’t seem overtly menacing, the orchestra shrieks at you to remember that Jessica Harper and her friend are always being watched, always in danger, always among those who have killed before and would kill them if they got the chance. And somehow, this only makes the scenes with an actively dangerous presence more affecting rather than less so. In the words of Decider’s Joe Reid “Everything is heightened, so everything is fuckin’ heightened”. Suspiria is so heightened it’s a wonder the central school doesn’t just fly off into the upper echelons of the Earth’s atmosphere, which is probably close to where the film is heightened to, but thank god it’s stuck to the ground. Not all stories work in space, and sometimes all you need is a man, his dog, a weird gargoyle, and a bunch of nice looking buildings to make a scene as tense as all hell. And, of course, a bullying, visceral score.
There’s a multitude of great performances from David Cronenberg films. In truth, the best two probably reside in the duet between Jeremy Irons and Genevieve Bujold in Dead Ringers, if not the duet between Irons and Irons in the same film. But we’re really here for The Brood, which boasts the most volcanic performance I’ve seen among Cronenberg’s filmography in the form of Samantha Eggar’s ferocious, unstable shrew of an ex-wife and absent mother. The entire film is premised on her rage, literally summoning embodiments of her anger to carry out acts of vengeance against those she decries in therapy sessions. These sessions have the head physician role-playing as the target of his patient’s psychosis in the hope of provoking a real break in their psyches, and take place in a facility miles out of town and built like log cabins, resembling a hotel from a distance. Her character’s ex-husband is right to suspect something’s amiss here, that Nola isn’t getting the treatment she needs, but even as he finds the corpses of the gremlins whacking their family members it takes until he witnesses the creation of one of these rage babies for him to fully grasp a situation that’s actively threatening everyone he loves. Eggar’s vitality and commitment gives the film a beating, potent heart that The Brood otherwise wouldn’t have, in spite of its crazy conceits and directorial strength. Without her exorcising fury, The Brood would be a weaker film, and it needs Eggar’s to power the whole thing through its demented thesis and towards its inevitable, monstrous climax.
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