Monday, February 23, 2015

Whiplash - A Short Review

I didn’t really know much about Whiplash until I heard people talking about how good it was, or rather how good J. K. Simmons is in it. With the Oscars that I didn’t watch (I care about who is picked, just not the broadcast itself) this week, I decided I’d better check this flick out.

Whiplash follows the story of Andrew Neiman, a first-year jazz student at Shaffer Conservatory of New York, one of the best music schools in the county, and his relationship with Terence Fletcher, the conductor of the school’s best jazz band, who has a reputation of being abusive to his students any opportunity he gets.

The movie is a slow train wreck and you see everything coming. It’s powerful, frightening. Whiplash is not a drama, it’s a psychological thriller. Fletcher becomes the monster that lives under Neiman’s bed; he wants to be one of the greats and Fletcher convinces him that he is the only person who can make that happen. Fletcher’s seduction forces Neiman to alienate himself from friends and family, and his abuse pushes Andrew beyond his limits and ultimately to his breaking point.

It’s clear that Writer/Director Damien Chazelle has a personal relationship with not only the story, but also with jazz and drumming. He gives Whiplash a jazz-like rhythm, knowing just when to speed up, slow down, or go crazy. The depth of field opens and closes with the intensity of the scenes, with shots getting tighter. The editing also moves with the rhythm of the music, until the film starts rapidly cutting with Andrew’s drum hits, until we are only seeing quick frames of drums, cymbals, and eyes.

This isn’t just in the visuals, either; the characters performances have a similar rhythm, showing vulnerability one moment, volatility the next. Simmons’ performance is otherworldly. His intensity crosses the line perfectly, and there are a number of moments where you no longer see a man, you see a monster. His character becomes a dark cloud that looms over each scene, and you are continuously waiting for the storm that comes from him. 

Miles Teller’s performance as Neiman is also nothing short of brilliant. His beginnings as an awkward and unsure young man are convincing enough that you cringe every time he lets Fletcher’s tutelage force him into making another bad decision, his drunk-with-power desire making another alienating statement to someone who cares about him.

As for the criticism it has received about getting Jazz history wrong, the critics mostly miss the point. They usually note how the film is “not about jazz”, but then forget that it’s not about getting jazz history right, either. There is an anecdote in the film that is told inaccurately so one character can better manipulate another, so it doesn’t have to be right. Some critics further argue that it’s the film’s job to portray Jazz history accurately, which it’s not. The film’s job is to tell its story, and it can do so however it so chooses. The film is about abuse of power, which the film gets right. Fletcher’s accolades are alluring, and the characters, the victims, think it’s worth the abuse because he perpetrates that he is trying to push his students to greatness.

Whiplash is a beautifully crafted movie, which has a unique rhythm that fits right between Indy and Hollywood, and is worth every bit of praise that it has received. See it immediately.

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