Rhythm & blues
Driven drummer and ruthless music teacher play a difficult duet
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Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 12/12/2014 (4312 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.
Given that this movie is about a relationship touched with sadism, the title may be subject to misinterpretation.
Whiplash is a big-band jazz tune by Hank Levy that happens to make particularly heroic demands of the percussionist.
But it is also one of the tools employed by the fiendishly manipulative band teacher Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons) to drive fledgling drummer Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller) to exert himself to the point of death in his ambition to be one of the greats. For this guy, “good” does not cut it.
“There are no two words in the English language more harmful than ‘good job,'” Fletcher tells Andrew in an honest display of his teaching philosophy.
Instead of giving pats on the back, Fletcher gives slaps on the face… in the correct tempo, of course.
Hungry for recognition and success, Andrew falls under his spell. There are times when Fletcher seems to be a decent guy, as with many psychopaths. But any information gleaned from heart-to-heart conversations will later be used against the student.
The lad nevertheless drives himself to the brink and beyond to get acknowledgement that may never come.
Andrew has some support, including a protective and loving father (Paul Reiser) and a new girlfriend, Nicole (Melissa Benoist), who admires his ambition, but who also falls victim to it.
But the meat of this story is that student-teacher relationship, and that’s informed by the seminal story of how, in 1937, an angry drummer once threw a cymbal at a 16-year-old saxophone player who had lost the beat. It was an incident that, in Fletcher’s mind, was an act of tough love that would help create the jazz genius of Charlie Parker.
Fletcher evidently has been throwing cymbals, figuratively and literally, throughout his teaching career.
Writer-director Damien Chazelle apparently based the story on his own experience in a high school jazz band. Turning his focus to filmmaking, Chazelle maintains a driving sense of rhythm that fires this film like a Buddy Rich drum solo.
If he doesn’t lose the beat, he does lose some credibility in the third act, when Fletcher’s scheming goes beyond mere manipulation into something like Bond villainy.
Still, this is a bracing drama, powered by its two central performances. Simmons brings scary intensity in a role that may recall his neo-Nazi prison inmate in the series Oz. (Imagine, for a moment, Vernon Schillinger teaching band class.)
Teller is, by contrast, an open book (or, more accurately, an open wound) as a musician asked to put it all on the line.
Ultimately, the film offers a tough lesson in music and life: For an artist intent on rising above the competition, the Musicians Union isn’t the only entity requiring that dues be paid.
randall.king@freepress.mb.ca
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