Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Robin Williams, looking the same
The opening of Peter Wier's 1989 film Dead Poets Society is almost solemn, filled to the brim with he apearance of strict rules, tradition of old, and young tears. The aged Welton Academy for boy reeks of the rich's perfumes and colognes, sending their children to only the best and brightest school money can afford while still holding on to them with an iron grasp. Undoubtedly founded by scottish immagrants of some wort the Academy proudly wears its heritage, scottish flags adorn the walls, a mural of women holding United States and Scottish flags above the common folk, as if leading them to a greater life. Younglings that are next of kin are fully expected to equal or surpass their elder siblings in studies, no matter how high the latter finished in grades. The only one who truelly seems light hearted among all the faculty, of course, is Robin William's character, who wields a great knowledge and understanding of peotry, and attempts to spread that apprecation for the art among his students. While one is immedialty enthralled in it, all the rest seem almost resiliant. Also, Robin Williams, get a new smile, I'm tired of seeing the same dumb grin in every one of your movies.
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