REVIEW: WHIPLASH
As of the publication of this post, no one has gotten more Oscar buzz for acting this year than J.K. Simmons as Fletcher in Damien Chazelle's Whiplash. Based on his short film that Simmons also starred in, billed only as "Band Teacher," Chazelle expanded his work into a full length feature, and let me say the results paid off handsomely. Whiplash is not only one of 2014's best offerings, but seeing it assured me that Simmons will indeed be walking up to that podium come February.
The movie shows Andrew (Miles Teller) practicing on his drum kit quite well, only to be interrupted by Terrence Fletcher, who passively aggressively lets Andrew know he's interested in him. Fletcher is the (in)famous music conductor of Shaffer Conservatory, a prestigious college Andrew's been accepted into, what he calls the best music school in America. Initially showing kindness and even warmth toward Andrew, auditioning him and nurturing him into his band, Andrew is excited to play in front of Fletcher. However, after the conductor berates an obese student, he has the band play a new number, "Whiplash," and begins his abusive relationship with Andrew, minutely critiquing him at first, and then savagely screaming and degrading him in front of his peers.
Unfortunately, I related to this movie a great deal. I had a drama teacher at my high school, let's call him Mr. X, who, although much milder than Fletcher, would scream, yell and insult me and my fellow techies/cast members during the rehearsal of our plays and in class. Mr. X had a reputation for being a nasty fellow, but no one ever said anything, because he produced college-level plays. I can see so much of Mr. X in Fletcher, who justifies his behavior and "refuses to apologize." These are the worst type of real-life monsters, abusive, aggressive teachers who never realize that there is an alternative approach to getting something done without belittling the people underneath you.
But Whiplash also made me think: would the plays be as good if Mr. X told us we were doing a "good job," a phrase Fletcher says is the worst two words of the English language? After acting in a college play where the director was sympathetic and kind towards her actors, I can see it can be done. But Whiplash has you wonder: would the all-time greats be where they were if they didn't experience suffering like Andrew, whose hands frequently bleed after his drumming sessions? Fletcher says his methods are vile because in the end he wants to produce a great artist, and is that what it takes?
The movie thoroughly intrigued me with difficult questions like these. The film itself has great style, the lightning quick editing, of course the jazzy soundtrack, and those two leading performances that the film relies on. My one critique is Chazelle choosing not to go even further into the lives of Andrew and Fletcher, developing their characters even more. Teller gives his best performance yet as the quiet, unassuming Andrew, and you can see him turning more and more into Fletcher as his instructor's abuse and insults seep into him. And Simmons of course, is the focus of your attention. You know you're going to cringe at whatever collection of disgusting words he structures into an insult next, but you can't stop watching him. It's an intense, furious and layered performance, and you just have to wonder what happened in the lives of a Fletcher or a Mr. X to make them who they are. Even though Whiplash raises more questions than answers, there's no question you should prioritize it as the first movie to see this awards season.
Rating: 3/4 stars
The movie shows Andrew (Miles Teller) practicing on his drum kit quite well, only to be interrupted by Terrence Fletcher, who passively aggressively lets Andrew know he's interested in him. Fletcher is the (in)famous music conductor of Shaffer Conservatory, a prestigious college Andrew's been accepted into, what he calls the best music school in America. Initially showing kindness and even warmth toward Andrew, auditioning him and nurturing him into his band, Andrew is excited to play in front of Fletcher. However, after the conductor berates an obese student, he has the band play a new number, "Whiplash," and begins his abusive relationship with Andrew, minutely critiquing him at first, and then savagely screaming and degrading him in front of his peers.
Unfortunately, I related to this movie a great deal. I had a drama teacher at my high school, let's call him Mr. X, who, although much milder than Fletcher, would scream, yell and insult me and my fellow techies/cast members during the rehearsal of our plays and in class. Mr. X had a reputation for being a nasty fellow, but no one ever said anything, because he produced college-level plays. I can see so much of Mr. X in Fletcher, who justifies his behavior and "refuses to apologize." These are the worst type of real-life monsters, abusive, aggressive teachers who never realize that there is an alternative approach to getting something done without belittling the people underneath you. But Whiplash also made me think: would the plays be as good if Mr. X told us we were doing a "good job," a phrase Fletcher says is the worst two words of the English language? After acting in a college play where the director was sympathetic and kind towards her actors, I can see it can be done. But Whiplash has you wonder: would the all-time greats be where they were if they didn't experience suffering like Andrew, whose hands frequently bleed after his drumming sessions? Fletcher says his methods are vile because in the end he wants to produce a great artist, and is that what it takes?
The movie thoroughly intrigued me with difficult questions like these. The film itself has great style, the lightning quick editing, of course the jazzy soundtrack, and those two leading performances that the film relies on. My one critique is Chazelle choosing not to go even further into the lives of Andrew and Fletcher, developing their characters even more. Teller gives his best performance yet as the quiet, unassuming Andrew, and you can see him turning more and more into Fletcher as his instructor's abuse and insults seep into him. And Simmons of course, is the focus of your attention. You know you're going to cringe at whatever collection of disgusting words he structures into an insult next, but you can't stop watching him. It's an intense, furious and layered performance, and you just have to wonder what happened in the lives of a Fletcher or a Mr. X to make them who they are. Even though Whiplash raises more questions than answers, there's no question you should prioritize it as the first movie to see this awards season.
Rating: 3/4 stars
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