Whiplash review

LITTLE DRUMMER BOY

Rating: 9.5/10

When the end credits of Whiplash rolled, I couldn’t help but break into an adrenaline-filled applause. If I had to transmute it into words, I’d have to bang my hands on the keyboard and pretend I drummed up a review. This, we all know, would lead to the opposite of you taking this seriously. Here’s what you can take seriously: Whiplash is a great movie. It is an absolute triumph of moviemaking, a flat-out sensation. How good can a movie about a drummer and his mentor be, you ask? The answer can only be discovered after watching Damien Chazelle’s sophomore tour de force. In all likelihood, you will discover: it can be… (drum-roll)… bloody brilliant.

Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller) and Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons) stand at the center of this two-character boxing ring between a mentor and his mentee. This match made in heaven and hell is dazzling, breathtaking, unnerving and revolting – all at the same time. There are times you root for them and times you are repulsed by them. They aren’t just driven, but perhaps overdriven enough for it not to be realistic. Make no mistake, this is no fantasy, it’s more like a nightmare or a fever dream. Albeit, it’s exhilarating to watch and, in hindsight, brutally inspirational. It is visceral in its treatment and physical in its impact. It reminded me of Black Swan (2010), another film about relentless artistic pursuit.

The film’s protagonist is obsessed with being great; his creative focus is literally sweat and blood. It’s admirable yet toxic. The antagonist is Salieri with a mission to find his Mozart. Tough love seems like a light-hearted methodology for Fletcher. There are many scenes where you wonder whether he wants to excavate the Mozart in Andrew or crush and bury it before anyone else sees it. Fletcher’s abuse is sadistic but isn’t Andrew’s conform equally unhealthy?

Teller is a talent to behold. He made a solid film debut opposite Nicole Kidman in Rabbit Hole (2010). Since then, he’s been seen in passable comedies but he made sure we noticed him in each one. Last year, he showed promise again in The Spectacular Now. Very soon, he will launch into deserved stardom with the upcoming Fantastic Four. It’s no exaggeration that he has burst onto the screen with this film. I wish he gained some awards traction for it but his role is less showy. He is a natural actor. His anger and disappointment, even his artless gloat feels authentic. Learning he did his own drumming made me remember that one drumming lesson I took and ran the other way.

J.K. Simmons has been seen before in the Spider-Man films and Jason Reitman films (who executive produced this vehicle). Fittingly, he is on his way to awards glory. Fletcher is an iconic movie villain. These over-the-top cinematic beasts aren’t people we know but can only exist on the cinema screen. He reminded me of Sgt. Hartman (from Full Metal Jacket) and Nurse Ratched (from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest). Yes, I just described a mentor. In the real world, he wouldn’t be doing that job for more than a day. I’m certain if he were in Dead Poets Society, his motto for the kids would be to “Crush the Goddamn Day”. He also gets a classic movie quote: “There are no two words in the English language more harmful than: Good Job.”

Watching this film makes you realize how lazy cinema has become today. They don’t care enough to involve the viewer, making us passive. This film is designed as an audience reaction test. It cares about what audience would think and feel, not just with action and dialogue but also through a cut or a music cue. I don’t remember the last time I had my emotions vested into a film with such passion and intensity.

Damien Chazelle could have made this like any other film about a young prodigy on his artistic pursuit. Surprisingly, we have a music drama masked as sports film masked as a thriller. Heck, it’s sometimes constructed like a war film or a horror film. I was clenching my fists, heart squished in one. I had no clue what would happen at the end. I don’t remember the last time I felt that in a movie like this one. Moreover, it cares about movies enough to make its audience come along for a roller-coaster ride. It makes you feel you are a part of what you’re watching at every step. This is what makes Whiplash stand out amongst a clout of regular, self-gratifying studio and indie shtick.

An aspect of the film you can’t ignore is the editing. The film is ingeniously cut. It isn’t just snappy editing like in a Jason Bourne film or a Transformers low-attention span visual-vomit. Each cut in the film extracts emotion, many times from your guts, ferocious in its approach. The jazz music is irresistible. Buddy Rich and Charlie Parker are name-dropped. Hank Levy’s titular Whiplash and John Wasson’s Caravan are used to perfection. Justin Hurwitz composes original jazz smoothness and tense drumming crescendos.

The finale is every bit as pulsating as you thought it would be. It hurls twists after twists. You expect a breakdown or a heart attack at every beat but what we are given is better than what we imagine (if we get a breather to imagine). That’s the mark of a truly great movie; it keeps you glued till the very last shot and leaves you utterly spell-bound (or in this case, hyper-ventilating). Whiplash is riveting cinema, right from the start to the very finish. And what an electrifying finish it is!