Written and Directed by Damien Chazelle
**** (four stars)
"Whiplash," the breakout feature film from Writer/Director Damien Cazelle is hands down the most electrifying film I have seen in 2014. This story of a 19 year old jazz drummer engaged in a ferocious battle of wills with his tyrannical instructor is exhilarating as it is exhausting, profound as it is pummeling, towering as it is tumultuous and even terrifying. Chazelle is, from the very first shot, a born filmmaker who somehow possesses a Scorsese-ian heft and fury to his storytelling that is blistering to behold. In a year and time period when CGI extravaganzas and costume heroes rule the day in our local theaters and cineplexes, it is truly a miracle to see a film about everyday human beings that carries such a tremendous amount of natural excitement. Trust me, dear readers, "Whiplash" is a knock out experience of agony, discipline and euphoria that showcases the power of the movies at its excellence. This one is NOT to be missed!
"Whiplash" stars Miles Teller from last year's wonderful teen drama "The Spectacular Now" in a sensational and feverishly intense performance as Andrew Neiman, the aforementioned 19 year old jazz drummer who attends the prestigious Shaffer Conservatory Of Music, who catches the eyes and ears of Terence Fletcher (a titanic J.K. Simmons), the school's infamous Studio Band conductor who is not only on the lookout for a new drum alternate, but a true musical phenom.
While Andrew eventually impresses Fletcher enough with his percussive skills and proficiency during a band rehearsal session, he quickly realizes that Fletcher's teaching style, which is based in severe emotional manipulation and all manner of abuses and injustices, is not only the order of the day for the band but also the exact technique utilized to inspire young musicians to become greater than they ever conceived themselves to become.
Essentially, that is the plot of "Whiplash," a film which serves as a two character study that richly explores the themes of success and failure, as well as the aspirations and endless hunt for personal and artistic greatness even when that very greatness arrives at the expense of maintaining and retaining one's sense of humanity. The performances by both Miles Teller and J.K. Simmons are two of the very finest of the year and they each deserve every stitch of acclaim that falls at their feet, Your teeth will be gnashing together as you witness their struggles with each other as well as within themselves.
The characters of Andrew Neiman and Terence Fletcher are essentially cut from the very same cloth. For Andrew, he exists as a lonely, introverted and friendless young man whose only relationships of value are with his Father (beautifully played by Paul Reiser), a high school teacher and failed author, as well as with his drums, most notably contained within his obsession with the iconic percussive talents of Buddy Rich, the brass ring that Andrew hopes to reach. By the time he is under the feral tutelage of Terence Fletcher, and the abusive mind games continue to mount, Andrew is repeatedly forced to question not only why he would continue to endure such a despairing, straining existence within the band but are the punishing lessons indeed as useful as Fletcher clearly intends for them to be.
Miles Teller, who actually is a drummer, performs his role with such endurance and athleticism but he nails the psychological drama contained within the obsession and most importantly, the fear of failure and overall insignificance that fuels him. Andrew is a spirit that feels that achieving the level of notoriety where he has essentially created a certain immortality for himself based upon his musical talent is worth living a life of loneliness and succumbing to a series of potentially compulsive behaviors, anxieties, and depression. This decision also makes scenes between himself and Nicole, a possible girlfriend (nicely played by Melissa Benoist) as well as those with his Father so heartbreaking as the trade Andrew is making between musical excellence and emotional stability is anguishing to watch as he is willingly placing himself in such harm's way every single minute he continues to remain with Terence Fletcher.
Just take the early sequence in the film which I will call the "Rushing or Dragging" sequence, where Fletcher continuously questions and then berates Andrew in regards to whether he is rushing or dragging the beat of the dizzying complex jazz composition "Whiplash." The sheer intensity between these two men during this section just emanates heat from the screen as Fletcher begins somewhat patiently yet uncompromisingly and then the scenes unexpectedly explodes into violence, with thrown chairs, a barrage of insults and public humiliations and finally, repeated slaps to the face.
And from that sequence, it only gets worse as Andrew, continuing to try and attain Fletcher's approval, suffers through more rehearsal sections that play and conclude like crime scenes. Fletcher weaves an environment where he pits these young musicians against each other in the classroom as well as during jazz competition performances, where there is no mercy for visible sheet music when it must be memorized, let alone the possession of out of tune instruments and God forbid, forgotten drum sticks. Hell's flames are pitifully weak when compared with Terence Fletcher's unrepentant rage.
Damien Chazelle also utilizes "Whplash" to explore the cycle of abuse as depicted within the classroom settings. We see how Fletcher's venom when inflicted upon his students carries over from student to student with a competitive outrage and also a certain self-infliction. A sequence where Andrew, running late for a competition performance and fearing he will lose his cherished drum part is equally combustible and draining in its unstoppable force. Chazelle structures this section as tightly as the best action thriller you could hope to see as it contains not only the requisite shocks but a white knuckle power that will have you grabbing and even pounding your theater seats. But Chazelle never exploits his material for cheap effect. He wisely and strongly allows the only exploitation to occur on screen as Fletcher is obviously a figure who is exploiting the talents of these young musicians in pursuit of his own elusive success and musical immortality, desires that are housed inside his own fears of failure.
J.K. Simmons is a revelation in his performance as Terence Fletcher as he has discovered the Machiavellian layers within the character as he is simultaneously seductive and encouraging as well as nightmarishly formidable and maddeningly unforgiving. Where perhaps other actors would just portray this figure as a monster and be done with it, Simmons draws you in closer and closer and just as rapidly blows you out of your seat. You will definitely attain a certain mental whiplash yourselves just trying to keep up with him.
Yes, Fletcher is a monster, precisely the type of teacher you would never wish for your child to have. But then again...
While Chazelle is rightfully critical of this character's tactics, with his rancorous temper, nearly inhuman demands and impossible psychological tests, he also delivers a challenging and provocative argument that suggests that perhaps Terence Fletcher's relentless teaching style just may be able to produce the next Charlie Parker by weeding out those who just cannot take his level of pressure and commitment. Throughout the film, both Andrew and Fletcher are equally inspired by the story of how Charlie Parker attained greatness after having a cymbal thrown at his head by drummer Jo Jones for a sub par performance (in truth, the cymbal was thrown at Parker's feet, a gaffe I think is intentional as Fletcher would obviously know the real story but augments it to further his manipulation of Andrew). Supposedly, as Fletcher explains, this was the fork in the road where Parker could have slunk away and given up forever or he could practice even more, which he did, and then returned one year later and emerged as Bird!!
This musical anecdote completely informs the characters of both Andrew Neiman and Terence Fletcher as it carries a weight that exists on the level of Herman Melville's Moby Dick, as everlasting greatness and fame serves as the "white whale" for both men--possibly even moreso for Fletcher, who, the film implies just might be a failed jazz musician himself, for why else would he be teaching if he had not achieved the level of greatness he so doggedly pursues? Themes of exploitation resurface as we realize that he is just using the younger musicians to help him attain the success that he was unable to achieve on his own, all the while using fear and violence as the catalysts.
In the film's final concert sequence, "Whiplash" grows into a battle of power and control as Andrew and Fletcher go mano-a-mano in a virtuoso performance of the jazz selection "Caravan." Chazelle builds the sequence to an extraordinary yet seismically ambiguous conclusion for we are left with questions of what has been either gained or lost and as both men serve as each other's antagonist, we also wonder just who is using whom.
How far would you go to achieve greatness? What are you willing to do? What lines would you continue to cross including the very ones that define your individual sense of self-respect and dignity? And even if you do compromise everything about yourself for greatness, would that even produce genus anyway? These questions and themes lie at the very heart and soul of Damien Chazelle's "Whiplash" a film of passion, sweat, grit, and heaping amounts of boiling blood, fire and brimstone. Believe me, dear readers, there has not been even one CGI explosion this year that carries as much palpable force as what is witnessed and experienced within this film, one that will undeniably leave you shaken and reeling from its magnitude.
When it comes time for me to officially compile my top ten favorite films of 2014, I will certainly be struggling with what to place at the number 1 spot for this is the year that gave us all Writer/Director Richard Linklater's "Boyhood," a film I consider to be his masterpiece, his greatest cinematic achievement.
Even so, the brutal beauty of "Whiplash" cannot be denied and refuses to be ignored. This film will hit you like a fist in the face, and trust me, you'll be eagerly waiting to take the punches again.
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