Whiplash

Whiplash (2014)

Director: Damien Chazelle

Cast: Miles Teller, J.K Simmons, Paul Reiser






Whiplash is one of those perfect movies. It's a perfect allegory for artistry, becoming an adult, and giving one's entire life--body, love, and mind-- to one's craft. It brings up important questions about the mentor/protege relationship and whether unapologetically demoralizing training does indeed result in higher elevated art, contributing to humanity's overall progress. What makes this topic even more fascinating is that it's centered on an esoteric and therefore highly specialized and rigorous genre of music.

Whiplash is deep and complicated, obviously, but at its heart is a rather simple tale of failure and perseverance. We are constantly surprised. Even going in knowing the plot of the movie, we are continuously thrown for a loop.  We never really understand the full intentions or nefarious nature of famous composer Terence Fletcher (J.K Simmons) until the very end of the movie. When our young hero Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller) first trains with Fletcher--after Fletcher manages to fuck with him by telling him to show up an hour early  for class--Andrew foolhardily discloses his parents' divorce and his father's (Paul Reiser) failure as a playwright. Fletcher reacts as if he's one of those genuinely caring and supportive teachers, until, moments later, he pulls a Mr. Hyde, humiliating Andrew in front of the entire class (One of my favorite lines: "You are a worthless, friendless, faggot-lipped piece of shit whose mommy left daddy when she figured out he wasn't Eugene fucking-O'Neil!")

From that point on, we know Fletcher as the bad guy, continuously working our hero to literal near death and chipping away at his sense of self-worth. However, certain scenes demonstrate Fletcher's humanity and passion for what he does, preventing him from coming off as completely ruthless, such as when he cries in front of his own class after learning of the suicide of a former student, or when he soulfully plays a piano solo in a packed jazz bar.

In order to be the truly great musician Fletcher demands, Andrew must sacrifice everything in pursuit of that greatness, like breaking things off with a potential girlfriend to focus on his training. The physical toll of his work is amplified by the camera's calculating emphasis on his bloodied hands and sweat-soaked body, close ups of drops of blood and perspiration splattering on the floor. Andrew's overall physical degradation reaches its inevitable climax in a shocking and brilliant car crash sequence as Andrew rushes manically to attend Fletcher's performance on time,  calling to mind the climax of Scorsese's Goodfellas, when Ray Liotta's Henry drives around the city, paranoid and determined, in a cocaine binged panic, barreling straight for disaster.

However, not once do we doubt Andrew's relentless determination. Despite all his sacrifices, we understand that quitting is not an option for our hero. In one of the film's most brilliant scenes, Andrew adeptly and humorously shuts down his relatives for downplaying his craft during a dinner scene reminiscent of an Aaron Sorkin dialogue. 

The result of all of this is in a final scene that makes Andrew's defeat by Fletcher utterly devastating and heartbreaking. When Andrew finally realizes he has been duped by the vengeful Fletcher, he exits the stage and walks mournfully into his loving father's arms. This ending would have been sufficient, completely self-consciousness in its own tragedy, except it's not the ending. Andrew, in a stroke of capricious deliberation, returns back to the stage, playing over Fletcher's address to the audience, playing over everyone in fact, and ultimately proving himself one of the greats in what culminates in one of the finest cinematic music sequences and film conclusions of all time. 

Whiplash is extremely entertaining to the upmost degree; so entertaining it's nearly impossible to look away, look at your phone, get up to use the bathroom, even upon multiple viewings. It has one of the best soundtracks in recent movie memory, and its editing is so exemplary that surely it will be referenced in film school classes. 

At the end, we are left with a single unanswered question: Is Andrew's perseverance and subsequent success a result of his own determination, or a result of the cruel tutelage of Fletcher? Was Fletcher correct when he claims that the two most harmful words in the English language are "good job," and that our current culture's "everyone is great" teaching style deprives the world of the next Charlie Parker? 

The answer, I believe, lies in Fletcher's response to Andrew asking whether it's possible to go too far, and discourage the next Charlie Parker from becoming Charlie Parker. Fletcher replies, "No, man, no. Because the next Charlie Parker would never be discouraged."

Much like its subject matter, Whiplash is one of the greats.

A+