By Rebecca Sirull, inside editor
For dancers there was “Black Swan.” For mathematicians, “A Beautiful Mind.” Now, for musicians, there is “Whiplash.” The tale of the devoted genius driven to the point of crazed obsession has been tried and tested on the big screen for years, and it never fails to captivate.
“Whiplash” is no different, following the journey of Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller), an aspiring jazz drummer in his first year at a prestigious music conservatory in New York City. Teller stars opposite J.K. Simmons, who plays his instructor Terence Fletcher – a widely respected but equally feared mentor whose unorthodox tactics push his students to the brink of their abilities, no matter the cost.
Written and directed by up-and-comer Damien Chazelle, the movie captures the emotional and physical torment of the young musician on a quest to make a name for himself and become one of the greats. Neyman is blinded by his devotion to music, obsessively practicing and re-practicing the same bars, single-minded in his goal to prove to everyone that he has what it takes.
In one of the first scenes, we see Neyman in a practice room, eyes squeezed shut and sweat dripping down his temples, drumming away on a snare with a focus that is almost palpable. As his muscles strain and face contorts, he suddenly notices Fletcher at the door, watching him play. It is clear from the first interaction that Fletcher is intent on one thing only – finding and cultivating the greatest talents in the music world. Relationships with students are unimportant to him, as are the standard norms of human interaction. He speaks sharply and bluntly, conveying with utmost honesty only the information that he deems necessary for his students to improve.
Later, we see that sometimes this means telling students to work on their swing beats and sometimes it means telling them that they are worthless, disgraceful (insert string of swears here). Or sometimes, he foregoes speech altogether in favor of a chair swiftly thrown at his target’s head.
Soon after meeting Neyman, Fletcher hears him play in class and notices the improvement following his suggestions from the first scene. Fletcher invites Neyman to join his studio band, one of the most elite groups in the school and highly prestigious across the country. While Neyman is elated at the important step in his career, he soon learns that membership in the group is never a guarantee. Within a few minutes of his very first day, he witnesses another member forced to leave the band after being tormented by Fletcher for not knowing whether or not he is out of tune. Just moments later, Andrew becomes the target of Fletcher’s vitriol, bringing him to the point of tears, but leaving him even more determined to prove himself.
Simmons’ performance is enthralling. His outbursts and insults are filled with a passion and believability that resonate throughout his performance. From the white-hot rage quivering at the tip of so many of his utterances to the pulsing vein in his forehead, Simmons commits to the part fully and loyally. Even during moments of respite from the usual aggression, we see a quiet intensity and depth of character that is fascinating to watch.
And even more intriguing is the change his coaching brings about in Neyman. While he is ambitious from the start, after just a few weeks of working with Fletcher, he begins to neglect relationships, sleep and his own personal well-being, leaving music as his sole focus.
Scene after scene shows Teller as the anguished musician, grimacing in pain as blood drips down his fingers and bounces off cymbals, soaking through layers of bandages and staining the narrow wooden sticks. But Teller plays on – driven by Simmons’ words echoing in his head and his own unwavering determination.
The film also explores Neyman’s relationship with his father (Paul Reiser), a budding romantic interest in a fellow NYC college student (Melissa Benoist) and an ongoing competition with another drummer (Austin Stowell). But none of these is as prominent or interesting as the evolving dynamic between Neyman and Fletcher. As Fletcher’s verbal abuse bores into Neyman’s psyche, it also impassions him and drives him to reach new levels of musical ability. The power struggle between the two, both underlying and overt, fluctuates throughout the film, with Neyman at times fighting to reassert himself over Fletcher’s crushing dominance.
The drama and intensity of the movie is punctuated by driving beats from Neyman’s drum, often mixed with beautifully-performed jazz music. The soundtrack features title song “Whiplash” by Hank Levy, “Caravan” by John Wasson and original music by Justin Hurwitz, the film’s composer.
Catch “Whiplash” at the Coolidge Corner Theatre or Kendall Square Cinema.
Photo courtesy Sony Classics Press
