“Whiplash”

I am not a musician, and I have not been blessed with a single musical bone in my body (aside from a predilection for finger drumming). However, thanks to Whiplash and movies like it, I am very familiar with obsession and the lengths that individuals can go to in order to achieve perfection in their art. When done well, audiences are lured to make the character’s struggle their own, cheering with success or commiserating with failure. Whiplash comes to theaters after an incredibly strong showing on the festival circuit (most notably at Sundance) and the tale of a young drummer seeking to excel under the harsh tutelage of a strict teacher seems to resonate with audiences accordingly but, unfortunately, I’m slightly bewildered as to why.

Whiplash begins with an incredible amount of promise. From the first time our two leads – Miles Teller’s Andrew and J.K. Simmons’ Fletcher – meet, it’s obvious that something explosive is already building. Even before Andrew and Fletcher are interacting regularly the cutthroat, dog-eat-dog environment of a premiere music conservatory has the potential to breed significant drama on its own, and the increasingly antagonistic relationship between Andrew and Fletcher only fans those competitive flames. Unfortunately, roughly half way through, Whiplash falls apart and the pieces never quite seem to come back together. The primary conflict concerning Fletcher’s abusive methods comes to its long-awaited climax but is never truly resolved, leaving the story to gradually taper off, and culminating in a conclusion with enough mixed messages to leave me very conflicted. The fact that Whiplash also jumps the proverbial shark on the way to this conclusion doesn’t help matters. Compounding this problem are Whiplash‘s often-underwritten characters; our lead in particular, whose mild-at-best personal issues seem to exist only to provide ammo for Fletcher to use against him, and whose increasing obsession without the requisite audience connection leaves him less and less sympathetic as the minutes go by. In a way, the story of an unsympathetic lead striving for perfection against a rival (real or imagined) is reminiscent of Aronofsky’s Black Swan; and, like Black Swan, watching Whiplash is a bit like watching someone go crazy for an hour and a half with the same lack of concern for their success or failure.

The cast is certainly likable enough – Teller is a promising young up-and-comer, and I love Simmons – even if their characters are not, and both actors deliver stellar performances. Even as Andrew becomes less sympathetic, his passion for greatness is absolutely undeniable and Teller’s performance is nothing if not passionate. Still, despite a strong showing Whiplash is absolutely J.K. Simmons’ film. As Fletcher, he stalks through Shaffer Conservatory like a predator waiting to devour his next victim. He’s calculating but not cold, with an inexhaustible anger that seems to be simmering just beneath the surface for the entire film, waiting to come out, and when it does the results are enthralling. At first one has to try and laugh at Fisher’s scathing rapid-fire comments, but as they begin to pile on and it becomes clear that he’s not only unrepentant but truly believes that he’s doing the right thing, he’s downright frightening. Simmons may not win a Best Actor award this year, but a nomination is absolutely in order.

From a technical standpoint, Whiplash has flashes of greatness. As a film centered around music it’s only fitting that composer Justin Hurwitz provides a top-notch accompaniment. Visually-speaking, cinematographer Sharone Mier’s work goes above and beyond, with each close-up on Teller and Simmons or shot of sweat and blood coating the drums making Whiplash that much more vibrant and alive. Between these elements and the strong performances by its leading men, it’s really a shame that writer/director Damien Chazelle’s script is what brings the film down. Watching Whiplash is like listening to a song that starts out Grammy-worthy before eventually clattering to a harsh cacophony of a conclusion. If you watch the film (or nothing more than the trailer below), you’ll understand what I mean when I say to Whiplash: “good job”. [6.5/10]