Welcome to another Oscar Film Journal entry, here at Enuffa.com!
Circling back to one of my recent favorites, a film I've seen numerous times but about which I haven't written a full review, 2014's Whiplash, the breakout film by Damien Chazelle, starring Miles Teller and J.K. Simmons. As a musician and Berklee College of Music alum, Whiplash piqued my interest right away, telling the story of an ambitious young drummer at a prestigious, competitive jazz conservatory in New York. Andrew Neiman wants to be the next Buddy Rich and knows that his key to success in the NYC jazz scene is to get in good with the school's toughest, most celebrated band leader Terence Fletcher (a scenery-chewing Simmons at his Oscar-winning best). As Andrew forsakes his personal relationships for his dedication to his craft, the teacher-student dynamic becomes a power struggle, with Fletcher going to appalling lengths to wring the best possible performances out of his pet project, and Andrew demanding a modicum of appreciation from his perfectionist mentor. Drawing on his own experiences in high school jazz band, Chazelle fills the movie with questions about losing oneself to ambition and the price of success, as well as asking "How far is too far to push a promising student?"
Simmons of course steals the show as the monstrous, creatively profane Fletcher, whose only known method of molding a great musician is to verbally beat greatness out of them. But Teller holds his own as Andrew, giving a star-making performance as the lonely, stardom-obsessed freshman, seemingly incapable of making friends but hellbent on winning people over through his playing.
The script is wire-taut and contains no wasted motion, ratcheting the tension between the two leads as their contentious relationship builds to a breaking point. The eventual resolution plays out almost like a boxing movie, the two-hander rising to a full boil as Andrew commandeers a Carnegie Hall performance and dazzles not only the audience but the instructor who'd written him off.
Going into this I was expecting something more akin to a saccharine, Mr. Holland's Opus-type film, where the teacher and student have a minor battle of wills and ultimately become friends, and all is hunky-dory. But instead the Fletcher-Neiman dynamic goes scorched-earth, taking this concept in new and unexpected directions as these two characters nearly destroy each other. It's a fascinating look at the artistic process and what two bull-headed people with opposing methods will do to achieve their shared goal, in this case making Andrew into a jazz virtuoso.
Whiplash is one of those films that raises questions about creativity and ambition but leaves them unanswered; in the end Fletcher's abusive behavior produces his intended result, and Neiman accepts that the method wasn't entirely wrong. But it's also clear the audience is meant to identify more with the downtrodden student. Ultimately it's the viewer's place to decide, how far is too far?
I pop this one into the Blu-ray player pretty frequently and it never gets old; Whiplash is a masterclass in storytelling efficiency and a thrilling take on the teacher-student dynamic, with two memorable performances at its center. This is one of the great films of this young century.
I give Whiplash **** out of ****.
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