Carpe Diem!!!

DPS: Final Script 10

2. dubna 2007 v 17:01 | dps.girl |  Final Script

Keating sits at his desk at the front of the classroom and opens up one
of his books.

Gentlemen, open your text to page
twenty-one of the introduction. Mr.
Perry, will you read the opening
paragraph of the preface, entitled
"Understanding Poetry"?

Understanding Poetry, by Dr. J. Evans
Pritchard, Ph.D. To fully understand
poetry, we must first be fluent with
its meter, rhyme, and figures of speech.
Then ask two questions: One, how artfully
has the objective of the poem been
rendered, and two, how important is that
objective. Question one rates the poem's
perfection, question two rates its
importance. And once these questions have
been answered, determining a poem's
greatest becomes a relatively simple

Keating gets up from his desk and prepares to draw on the chalk board.

If the poem's score for perfection is
plotted along the horizontal of a graph,
and its importance is plotted on the
vertical, then calculating the total
area of the poem yields the measure of
its greatness.

Keating draws a corresponding graph on the board and the students
dutifully copy it down.
A sonnet by Byron may score high on the
vertical, but only average on the
horizontal. A Shakespearean sonnet, on
the other hand, would score high both
horizontally and vertically, yielding a
massive total area, thereby revealing the
poem to be truly great. As you proceed
through the poetry in this book, practice
this rating method. As your ability to
evaluate poems in this matter grows, so
will - so will your enjoyment and
understanding of poetry.

Neil sets the book down and takes off his glasses. The student sitting
across from him is discretely trying to eat. Keating turns away from
the chalkboard with a smile.

Excrement. That's what I think of Mr. J.
Evans Pritchard. We're not laying pipe,
we're talking about poetry.

Cameron looks down at the graph he copied into his notes and quickly
scribbles it out.

I mean, how can you describe poetry like
American Bandstand? I like Byron, I give
him a 42, but I can't dance to it.

Charlie suddenly appear to become interested in the class.

Now I want you to rip out that page.

The students look at Keating as if he has just gone mad.

Go on, rip out the entire page. You heard
me, rip it out. Rip it out!

Charlie looks around at the others. He then looks down at his own notes,
which consists of drawing breasts.

Go on, rip it out.

Charlie rips the page out and holds it up.

Thank you Mr. Dalton. Gentlemen, tell you
what, don't just tear out that page, tear
out the entire introduction. I want it
gone, history. Leave nothing of it. Rip
it out. Rip! Begone J. Evans Pritchard,
Ph.D. Rip, shred, tear. Rip it out. I
want to hear nothing but ripping of Mr.

Meeks looks around reluctantly and then finally begins tearing out pages.

We'll perforate it, put it on a roll.

Keating sees Cameron still hesitating.

It's not the bible, you're not going to
go to hell for this. Go on, make a clean
tear, I want nothing left of it.

Keating goes over to his room. Cameron turns around to Neil.

We shouldn't be doing this.

Rip, rip, rip!

Neil makes Cameron turn back around.

Rip it out, rip!

From outside the classroom, Mr. McAllister hears all the noise and sees
all the students ripping out the pages. He bursts into the room.

What the hell is going on here?

The boys all turn around in shock. Charlie stuffs a crumpled page into his
mouth. Keating emerges from his room with a waste paper basket.

I don't hear enough rips.

Mr. Keating.

Mr. McAllister.

I'm sorry, I- I didn't know you were

I am.

Ahh, so you are. Excuse me.

Mr. McAllister slowly backs out of the classroom.

Keep ripping gentlemen. This is a battle,
a war. And the casualties could be your
hearts and souls.

Keating holds out the basket to Charlie who spits out a wad of paper.

Thank you Mr. Dalton. Armies of academics
going forward, measuring poetry. No, we
will not have that here. No more of Mr.
J. Evans Pritchard. Now in my class you
will learn to think for yourselves again.
You will learn to savor words and language.
No matter what anybody tells you, words and
ideas can change the world. I see that look
in Mr. Pitt's eye, like nineteenth century
literature has nothing to do with going to
business school or medical school. Right?
Maybe. Mr. Hopkins, you may agree with him,
thinking "Yes, we should simply study our
Mr. Pritchard and learn our rhyme and meter
and go quietly about the business of
achieving other ambitions." I have a little
secret for ya. Huddle up. Huddle up!

The boys get up from their seats and gather around Keating in the center
of the class.

We don't read and write poetry because
it's cute. We read and write poetry
because we are members of the human race.
And the human race is filled with passion.
Medicine, law, business, engineering,
these are all noble pursuits, and necessary
to sustain life. But poetry, beauty,
romance, love, these are what we stay alive
for. To quote from Whitman: "O me, o life
of the questions of these recurring, of the
endless trains of the faithless, of cities
filled with the foolish. 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. That the powerful
play goes on and you may contribute a verse.

Keating looks up at Todd.

What will your verse be?

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