Dead Poets Society (1989)

Dead Poets Society preaches thinking for yourself, then tells you exactly when to cry. Peter Weir lays the music on thick and lines up every big moment like a row of dominoes. And it still gets you. Robin Williams plays Keating with the brakes almost all the way on, and that’s the trick: the jokes are there, but the warmth does the heavy lifting. Robert Sean Leonard’s Neil is the beating heart, a kid who lights up on a stage and goes gray at the dinner table. A young Ethan Hawke spends half the movie trying to disappear into his sweater, and his slow climb out of it is the best arc here. The weak spot is the rest of the club, who mostly get one trait each. That A+ CinemaScore makes total sense. An 8.6 because it’s earnest in a way movies are scared to be now. $14.57 says you stand on a chair this week just to see the room from up there.

What works: Robin Williams finds the warmth in Keating without going for big laughs, and the young cast, especially Ethan Hawke, feels real.

What doesn’t: Most of the club members get a single trait each, and the score tells you how to feel a little too loudly.

Who it’s for: Anyone who had one teacher who changed things for them, and teens who feel boxed in by someone else’s plan.