Whiplash

‘Whiplash’ Theatrical Release Poster

The next entry in the run-down of Best Picture contenders, is one of the more surprising contenders this year. Whiplash is a strange contender in some senses, it is a hard and uncomfortable watch at times, and it’s a difficult film to “like” for this reason. It is the rawness of feeling that this film leaves in its audience, that makes this the powerful film and contender that it is.

On the surface a film about a talented and ambitious student being broken down by a ruthless, maniacal bully, doesn’t make for the most appealing premise, and yet this is essentially the spine of this story. However, the team behind this project have created an intense, unsettling and at times uncomfortably claustrophobic film, but a film which commands attention. To create characters, situations or interactions which are difficult to watch and keep you watching and engaged with those characters is an admirable achievement and one which has understandably gained critical acclaim.

The first notable achievement is for writer and director, Damien Chazelle, who has written the kind of punchy, to-the-point screenplay that most aspiring or seasoned screenwriters alike would be proud of. He then goes one better, and succeeds in putting it across on screen with a raw intensity that at times leaves the audience squirming in their seats. The success and realism of this screenplay is perhaps attributable to the fact that it’s semi-autobiographical, based on Chazelle’s own experiences studying at music college.

In this world of creativity, talent and ambition to be the best, a fiercely competitive environment can be created; an environment where barely closeted bullying can make its way out into the open, becoming an almost accepted form of behaviour in the process. This could, maybe, be expected amongst the students, whose desire to be the best at what they do, can alienate them and put them in direct competition with others, but what makes Whiplash so unsettling is that this bullying comes through J.K. Simmons’ terrifying band leader, Fletcher, a man supposedly in a position of trust and responsibility.

Fletcher is a man who commands respect from his students through fear, attacking any small fault or crack in a performer, with ruthless aggression and cruelty. He demands such perfection from his band members, that it borders on the insanely unachievable. The scenes inside the band’s small, darkly lit rehearsal studio, are amongst some of the most uncomfortable, claustrophobic and at times awful viewing experiences in recent cinema. The manner with which Fletcher speaks to his students is a deeply unpleasant experience to witness, and you can almost feel the tension in the audience as they strain to not make a sound for fear that Fletcher may turn his wrath on them. Despite this tension there is a strange enjoyment in just how cruel he is with his words, perhaps due to the fact that its some else in the firing line, or because it becomes almost begrudgingly admirable how good he is at cruelty, and that is testament to both Chazelle’s writing and Simmons’ performance of those words.

Into his crosshairs, like the proverbial lamb to the slaughter, walks the mild mannered and reserved Andrew – played brilliantly by Miles Teller – a talented drummer, who, with the belief of his supportive father (Paul Reiser) is determined to be the best musician he can be. However, in his first studio session with Fletcher’s band, he goes from proud optimism in his ability, to a whimpering wreck, when an inability to match Fletcher’s perfectionist expectations leads to a truly awful and physical tirade. This personal attack becomes the battleground for the two characters which plays out in equal intensity throughout the remainder of the film, an intensity which is carried along and wonderfully accompanied by the brilliant and frenzied jazz score.

J.K. Simmons excels in this role, finding a rare ability to bring life and personality to the excellently scripted rants, and giving an intensity bordering on enjoyment to his performance. When combined with Teller’s increasingly physical performance, it only becomes all the more powerful, and between the two actors this film builds to a crescendo which shines a shared spotlight on their excellence. Some of the drumming sequences Teller puts in with J.K. Simmons in this film are spectacularly physical, and they become a feat of endurance for all involved, audience included. The final scene features the two leading men, in what can only be called a showdown, each man challenging the other, with Teller putting in the kind of performance which leaves the audience sharing in every drop of sweat, every aching muscle and every strained sinew, willing him to succeed. Keeping an audience so emotionally invested during a ten minute drum solo, speaks volumes to what this film has achieved, and few would deny anyone involved with it their due praise, least of all the two leading men.

This is a mentally and physically demanding film, which leaves its audience as drained as its cast; the fact that powerful emotional and moral ideas are condensed into a little over 100 minutes, leads to a concentrated film which leaves viewers little room to breathe, no time to think or question the themes, and ultimately fatigued.

By the end it’s hard to know how to feel about the film and whether or not the ending satisfies a need for closure. It feels like Miles Teller lost his bodyweight in sweat during this film, but it’s that level of commitment to the role alongside the equally physical J.K. Simmons, which makes what could have been an interesting little film into something much more powerful. It might make its audience feel uncomfortable or ill at ease, but it definitely makes them feel, and that is very important for any film seeking to push beyond mere entertainment into the realms of artistic importance. Whiplash should be applauded for achieving this; as with all good art, this film treats its audience with due respect, acknowledging their intelligence and ability to draw their own conclusions from its themes, and how that should make them feel.