Whiplash is about a teacher pushing a student to greatness. This is a story we’ve seen many times before, but Whiplash does things a little differently. It acknowledges the reality that not every teacher is a nurturer, and that not every student is driven by love. It lays out an awful, difficult road filled with blood, sweat and tears, all drawn from a relationship that any reasonable person would call abuse. The film takes a powerful, sobering look at the psychosis involved in the quest to be the greatest. It is not pleasant at all, but it is all awfully compelling.
Andrew (Miles Teller) intends on becoming one of the all-time great jazz drummers. He's currently studying in the prestigious Schaffer Music Conservatory, where he catches the attention of the notorious Fletcher (JK Simmons), who conducts the school's competition band. Fletcher pushes Andrew to the very edge of his abilities, demanding a commitment to his craft that seems inhuman at times. But Andrew is convinced that Fletcher is offering the key to greatness. All he has to do is survive.
The film recalls Black Swan, which similarly explores the idea that success in the performing arts requires a level of obsession and capacity for physical pain that is beyond normal human behavior. In both films, the craft warps the body, the devotion made visible by the injuries sustained in the pursuit of perfection. Whiplash transposes that idea to the world of jazz drumming, but pares it right down to the basics. There's no camp to any of this, and no psychosexual subtext. This movie takes it right down to the most human levels, sketching out a tragedy that feels supremely grounded in real experience.
It is powerful stuff. The film does a great job of depicting the sheer pain involved in the main character's journey. The film makes drumming look like a real ordeal: a skin-flaying, bone-rattling experience that calls for a fortitude that borders on superhuman. The camera work and editing makes every beat visually palpable. The musical sequences are simply stunning, the direction dancing along with the flow of the music.
The movie also features a couple of fantastic performances from its leads, Miles Teller and JK Simmons. Simmons will certainly get awards attention for his performance here. The role involves a lot of anger and a lot of yelling, and lesser actors would likely turned that into opera. But Simmons cuts like a surgeon, his every gesture measured and calculated in a very musical way. Teller deserves real respect for matching Simmons beat for beat. Teller is terrific in this role, the young actor often subverting his natural charms and really bringing to life the more caustic aspects of his character. And he puts together a really hypnotic physical performance once he starts playing the drums.
Whiplash is perfectly composed. It never betrays its abrasive heart, telling a tale of growth through fear, of betterment through hatred. It never settles for the clichés of the genre, for the generic uplift that tends to define this kind of movie. Instead, it really earns its triumphs. It takes the main characters to places so low and has him claw his way back up through sheer determination. And through this rigor, the film produces a more potent form of inspiration. The film makes it clear that this sort of ambition might be destructive, but it might be admirable all the same.
My Rating:
