WHIPLASH

I’ve always been a sucker for movies about good teachers, and even more so for movies about music teachers.  Music unites us, and for most people, the student-teacher experience is a universal one, so these films can resonate even if they aren’t remarkable.  Music of the Heart, Sister Act 2, Mr. Holland’s Opus, and Madame Sousatzka are among my favorite “feel-good” movies.  Whiplash (2014), a film about a music teacher and his student is a cinematic masterpiece and ranks as one of the best films I’ve seen.  With that said, Whiplash is not a “feel-good” film.  Whiplash is a tightly wound, tense anatomy of the cost of greatness and the humiliating psychological fuckery that a brilliant teacher thinks is required to motivate others to achieve greatness.  This film takes “No pain no gain” to its utmost extreme.

Whiplash opens with a long shot of Andrew (Miles Teller) practicing his drums.  Andrew is a student at the Shaffer Conservatory, a school he later asserts is the top music school in the country.  Within a few moments, he is interrupted by Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons), the conductor of the Shaffer Conservatory Studio Band, and a man that Andrew desperately wishes to impress.  With but a few lines before departing this opening scene, Fletcher establishes himself as an unapologetically arrogant prick. 

Andrew is a loner driven by his goal of being the best and leaving a musical legacy like that of his idol, Buddy Rich.  His relationship with his father, Jim (Paul Reiser), seems superficial, watching movies together but not talking much.  His father had hoped to be a writer but ended up being a teacher.  Andrew views this as a sort of failure and doesn’t understand his father’s joy of simply having a fulfilled existence that doesn’t include being driven to distinction.  Jim fears his son’s ambition will drive Andrew to a lonely life or early death.

Fletcher, having recognized a talent in Andrew, quicky offers him a chance to join the Studio Band as an alternate for the core drummer, Carl Tanner.  Andrew’s excitement is quickly abated when he discovers what a bully his new instructor is.  Fletcher is both verbally and physically abusive to all the members of his band.  His misogynistic nature is evident in the fact that his band is comprised entirely of male students, and he believes the best way to motivate them is through denigration and continually referring to them with female pronouns or homophobic slurs.  He kicks an overweight musician off the band after insulting him with comments about candy bars and McDonald's.  Fletcher works overtime to humiliate everyone, and Andrew soon finds he’s the next target.  Andrew is so driven to receive approval from Fletcher that he accepts this treatment in the same way an abused partner sticks with their spouse, or in the same way a drug addict seeking their high returns to the very thing breaking them down.

Andrew throws away a possible relationship with his new girlfriend, Nicole (Melissa Benoist) because he convinces himself that she is too lacking in purpose to ever appreciate the greatness he is driven to achieve.  He comes to dismiss her in the same way he does his father.  He abandons everything and everyone in order to achieve the approval of his maniacal mentor… the one person he believes can provide the approval and validation he so desperately requires.

Miles Keller and J.K. Simmons both turn in incredible performances.  Simmons won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his spellbinding portrayal of Terence Fletcher.  The extremely close camera framing often enhances the constant tension felt throughout the movie.  The slow-motion cutaways during the drum solos are very reminiscent of similar shots in Raging Bull.  We see the bloody fingers, the band-aids breaking away, and the sweat flying… all while the music never stops.  The intensity is brilliant. 

I won’t spoil the resolution of the conflict between Andrew and Fletcher.  I will say that the battle between this driven duo culminates in a conclusion that for me was both satisfying and equally unsatisfying.  And I think that was intentional by director Damien Chazelle.  How should those driven to achieve greatness be challenged to achieve it?  At what point should one give up the goal of greatness to acquire happiness?  Can one be great and content as well?  What methods of inspiration are acceptable to inspire and possibly achieve greatness in others?  Where is the line?  Watch this movie and then try to answer these questions.  No doubt your answers will be different from many other viewers' answers.  And that is what makes this flick so fantastic.