Oscar-winning ‘Whiplash’ drums up propulsive beat
The following is a reprint of my 2014 review for The Patriot Ledger to mark the film’s 10th anniversary:
Loud and abusive, Terence Fletcher is a lawnmower parent’s worst nightmare. Placing your kid in his care is tantamount to slipping a noose around Junior’s neck because death is sure to become preferable to yet another vitriolic browbeating administered by the music teacher from hell. Just ask his students. Better yet, go see it for yourself in “Whiplash,” the meanest, nastiest and most entertaining flick to ever pick up a set of drumsticks.
It thrives on a plane where symbolism and cymbalism harmoniously co-exist, and great performances reach an irresistible crescendo. Multiple Oscar nominations are sure to be snared, with your normally friendly Farmers Insurance pitchman, J.K. Simmons, emerging as a frontrunner for Best Supporting Actor.
He’s Fletcher, the most intimidating educator since John Houseman picked up a gold statuette for his portrayal of Professor Kingsfield in “The Paper Chase.” The characters and performances are remarkably similar, but where Houseman left the door open for empathy, Simmons makes no such concession. He’s evil through and through. But what’s so dazzling about Simmons is that he’s able to make Fletcher darkly funny.
No, we shouldn’t be laughing at the foul, racist rants inflicted on his students, but you can’t stop grinning. Perhaps that’s because we’re not the ones being admonished, so we can relax and bask in the schadenfreude we experienced as kids when one of our mates was getting reamed by the teacher – thankful that it was him, not you. But I think it has more to do with Simmons, who’s so good it’s like music to the ears, as he rattles off writer-director Damien Chazelle’s stinging, rapid-fire dialogue with the piercing cadence of a demented drill sergeant.
As the most feared professor at New York’s prestigious Shaffer Conservatory of Music (a fictional version of Boston’s Berklee), Fletcher breaks spirits and bruises egos at an intense pace. But no one is on the receiving end more than the newest member of his prestigious Studio Band, 19-year-old first-year drumming student Andrew Neyman. He’s played with stunning maturity by Miles Teller (“The Spectacular Now”), an actor who, like Sean Penn, doesn’t have matinee-idol looks but possesses talents far beyond those of mortal men.
It’s essentially the Tim Bottoms role from “Paper Chase,” but Teller makes it his own with one of the most shocking and absorbing portrayals of a young man done in by obsession. In this case, the desire to be the greatest drummer since Buddy Rich. But to be Rich (who famously quipped, “If you don’t have ability, you wind up playing in a rock band”), poor Andrew must overcome Fletcher’s taciturn teaching style, which includes throwing a chair at Andrew’s head when he fails to find the right tempo for the band’s signature tune, Hank Levy’s “Whiplash.”
The chair is nothing compared to the verbal assaults Andrew must endure. He’d cry, but Fletcher would call him a little girl. Our rooting interest lies in the hopes that one day Andrew will find the courage to stand up to his aggressor, and do it before he loses everything, including his sadsack dad (Paul Reiser, doing his best work in years) and his pretty, put-upon girlfriend, Nicole (fresh-faced newcomer Melissa Benoist). Or worse, his life. But Chazelle, to his credit, never condemns Fletcher’s unorthodox tactics, making the point that a Charlie Parker might not have become “The Bird” had drummer Jo Jones not tossed a cymbal at his teenage bandmate’s head as a notso-subtle hint that he’d better play better or give up.
“Whiplash” is Chazelle’s first major film, but he works like a pro, setting the proper tempo to keep things moving briskly. He also provides graphic insight into the amount of pain, sweat and blood – particularly the blood – that a musician must expel to attain the optimum, and then move beyond. But Chazelle’s most impressive gift is his handling of actors. Like Fletcher, he demands the best and challenges his tremendous cast to go even further. He gets it, and does it without ever missing a beat.
Movie review
Whiplash
Rated: R for strong language, some sexual reference
Cast: Miles Teller, J.K. Simmons, Melissa Benoist and Paul Reiser
Director: Damien Chazelle’
Writer: Damien Chazelle’
Runtime: 106 minutes
Where: In theaters now
Grade: A
