Review: Whiplash

Whiplash is a psychological drama from Damien Chazelle, telling the story of an ambitious young jazz drummer and his intense teacher. 

Andrew Neyman studies percussion at America's most prestigious music college, and ultimately dreams of joining his idols in the pantheon of jazz legends. The vital stepping stone on offer in the jazz faculty, it seems, is to play in the band of a charismatic, infamous teacher, Terence Fletcher. When Neyman gets his shot, however, Fletcher is a little more intimidating that Andrew believed. 

The main element of the film is not Neyman's path to glory, nor really the music (although this is obviously a prominent feature and praise must be lavished on the instrumental performances by a cast who don't even get character names), but the teacher-student relationship.

Basically, Fletcher is a psycho. The jazz connoisseur, perpetually outfitted in a cool dark suit and occasionally dabbling in trilbee use, espouses a teaching method whereby students must be pushed further than they thought was possible. This is how Charlie Parker became so great, and it will help Fletcher uncover the next Parker. This results in him rehearsing drummers until they bleed, throwing chairs at students' heads, engaging in psychological abuse and taunting musicians in hideously personal ways.

Maybe we're supposed to think he has a point, that he is a monster but a genius. However, I was never convinced. I'm not sure I'd have taken two minutes of his bullying nonsense - what's the point? He also vastly overestimates the importance of jazz. No offence to the genre, but giving the world another Charlie Parker isn't that vital, certainly not worth all of the misery and suffering it has caused to the musicians. Perhaps he should get into heavy metal instead, it would certainly provide a vent for his tension - jazz is too laid back for a wound up sociopath like him.

As I have said, the focus is on Fletcher and Neyman. J.K. Simmons is garnering praise left, right and centre for his bullying music monster, and Miles Teller as Neyman for his instrumental prowess. I also appreciated Teller's realist acting style, reminding me a bit of Brando in On The Waterfront. Unfortunately for Simmons, so well does he slip into the role that I think people will find it hard to see him as anything other than a nasty piece of work. Incidentally, he looks a little like a turtle who has lost his shell. Maybe that's why he is so angry?

There is thus little room for other characters. A few of Neyman's peers get occasional lines; Melissa Benoist plays his girlfriend but is restricted to about three scenes, as is Paul Reiser as his father.

What helps to turn Whiplash into a worthwhile film is the brilliant stimulation of tension. The way that the camera picks up on details, such as sweat or blood or notes on a manuscript, focus the viewer's attention on relevant information. The conductor prowls around, hurling things at students but just a little later than we're expecting, making each rehearsal as uncomfortable for the us as it is for the band. At points, when I was waiting for something to go wrong, I felt like I was watching a bank robbery. 

In fact, the whole scenario has a dearth of human warmth. Neyman is a loner, the other musicians either ignore each other or are actively hostile, and Neyman ends a relationship to pursue his musical career. As guests in his world, we end up in his void.

We could discuss the ending and what it means until the cowbells come home, but unfortunately the finale is a realm into which reviewers cannot enter. But I will say that what happens in the last segment can change how you think of the film as a whole, depending on your personal perception.

Is Whiplash a self-contained tale or a more general fable? Is the jazz a metaphor for all ambition, the price of success and what we sacrifice for it? Tales like these, generally speaking, are set in a specific context to add human interest to a broader musing on life. But I didn't feel Whiplash was. All I saw was an angry abuser in a black T-shirt, and a music school. It will be interesting to see how it fares in time, but until then it is an intense, uncomfortable yet enjoyable production, and as neat as the music that Fletcher's band produces.