“There are no two words in the English language more harmful than ‘good job,’” Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons) declares in the feverish indie flick Whiplash, about the toxic relationship between a tyrannical jazz band conductor and his collegiate drummer. Helmed by up-and-coming director Damien Chazelle, Whiplash enlists an electrifying soundtrack and gripping performances to give a new meaning to the phrase ‘blood, sweat, and tears.’
The film opens during the fall semester at Shaffer Conservatory of Music, where Andrew Neimann (Miles Teller) seems to be below average—he’s the back-up drummer in the school’s back-up band and spends his weekends at the movies with his dad. His world suddenly cracks open when he’s noticed by Fletcher, the institution’s mysterious Studio Band conductor.
Fittingly, Fletcher makes his debut in the film by literally emerging from a shadowy corridor to watch Andrew practice a drum solo. When he recruits Andrew for Studio Band a few days later, Fletcher plays the role of supportive coach, encouraging his new drummer to just have fun—something that’s hard to do when your conductor’s idea of “fun” is launching a chair at your head.
Andrew’s induction into this elite team of jazz musicians becomes a nightmarish assault of threats and mind games. Fletcher reveals himself as a master manipulator that mines personal information and insecurities to use as weapons later. He berates Andrew for being worthless and screams at him to keep up with an impossible tempo.
Fletcher’s transformation from mentor to monster is delivered with a subtle malevolence by Simmons. The performance transcends that of a cookie-cutter bully, and instead functions as a fully-realized antagonist. Fletcher’s respect for the genre of jazz and obsession with discovering its next great musician poses the film’s main question: just how far is too far? Simmons nails the role, and will likely come away with the title of Best Supporting Actor come Oscar night.
His counterpart, Teller, has become a seasoned indie star in his own right, and Whiplash is further proof of the 28-year-old’s acting chops. Teller plays Andrew as a self-righteous loner, fixated only on achieving greatness as a drummer. His relationships with others, including his well-meaning father (Paul Reiser) and endearing girlfriend, Nicole (Melissa Benoist) are suffocated by an unrelenting need to reach his goal. At a family dinner, Andrew actually asserts, “I’d rather die drunk, broke at 34 and have people at a dinner table talk about me than live to be rich and sober at 90 and nobody remember who I was.”
Andrew’s reaction to Fletcher’s tyranny ultimately becomes the most fascinating thing about the film. Rather than removing himself from a toxic environment, Andrew works harder, plays faster, and practices until his hands are bleeding all over the drum kit. His bizarre relationship with Fletcher surges through the film, and the duo’s heated interactions breathe life into every scene.
The film’s pacing allows its simple plot to succeed so well. Infectious jazz beats build intensity and create a high-energy atmosphere present in all 107 minutes of the film. Cuts are made in time with the rhythm of the music, and shots of concert halls and illuminated city buildings contribute to the vitality of the film.
From the opening beat to the electrifying finale, Whiplash grabs you and refuses to let go. On the surface, the film functions as a thriller, intertwining intensely dramatic scenes with palpable tension. But it works even better as a character study, as we watch Andrew sacrifice everything to achieve his goals. Teller and Simmons have tangible chemistry, and both actors wholly commit to their performances (some of the blood spilt on the drum kit actually belonged to Teller). Their final explosive confrontation will leave your jaw on the floor as you’re forced to truly question the price of greatness.
PHOTO TAKEN from hollywoodreporter.com
