Movies were never really my thing. I mean, I liked them on occasion. But I have forever been a huge literature junkie instead because, let’s face it, the book is always, _always_ better than the movie.

And it still is that way. But I’ve also learned to love film over the years now as well because of the perfect bridge movie between film and literature, “The Dead Poets Society” which, needless to say, I discovered on Netflix after realizing that I had already seen the other famous ’80s movies like “The Breakfast Club” and “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” Both excellent movies, of course, but I wanted something with a little more depth. And I found “The Dead Poets Society.”

I knew immediately after reading the description that I needed to watch it. I was not disappointed. In fact, I was very much in love. The entire movie had fabulous references to literary giants, as well as a young Dr. Wilson from “House M.D.” as the main character. I could go on forever about how much I wish Mr. Keating were my English teacher commanding me to rip out the introduction to my textbooks and address him as “O Captain, My Captain,” but I simply don’t have the word length to do so.

The movie might be a bit sappy at some moments, but if it’s made readers of some people and a movie lover out of me, then it must have done something right.