The film opens in a prestigious Manhattan Conservatory of Music. The sound of a cymbal builds to an insane pulse that much like the film, never stops. Within two minutes the audience is into the artist’s grove. The artist…the drummer…the student….Andrew (Miles Teller) lives and breathes drums, drumsticks, and follows the rhythm of Buddy Rich’s ‘Birdland,’ but first he has to survive the drill sergeant instruction of Fletcher (J. K. Simmons) who screams, humiliates and salivates in his face.
Initially you might wonder how the band can even perform under the abuse of Fletcher, who brings the word ‘dictator’ to a whole new meaning. And then in his next breath, Fletcher assures them “relax…don’t worry about the other guy. You’re here for a reason.” Like Fletcher’s students we never know what to expect next out of Fletcher’s mouth. Or whether he’ll toss a chair across the room either. That’s the voyeuristic beauty of this film, watching on as he tears a potential star to shreds. In Fletcher’s class it seems you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Fletcher doesn’t give pep talks, but instead he discourages his students with poison dialog, giving off toxins or negativity that will surely sabotage any great musician’s chances at stardom. Or won’t it? Perhaps there is a reason for his madness. Perhaps a student disguised as a mad-genius-of-a-musician can survive anything.
Young Andrew is up for the game, with his bedroom poster that reads “Buddy or Ludwig” determined to outsmart and outlive Fletcher’s wrath. With palm callouses and bleeding fingers, Andrew pours his soul into his drumsticks. He knows every measure of ‘Whiplash’ without sheet music (the piece they’re performing) so it frustrates us when Fletcher yells “Earn it” to Andrew, who clearly already has [earned it.]
This is a film not about music but about determination. Don’t let anything get in the way of your dream. Without spoiling the movie’s ending let’s just say Andrew who shivers with vulnerability won’t stop until he pleases Fletcher, because once he gets his teacher’s approval we might say ‘wow’ in a moment where’s he clearly – in the words of Fletcher – “earned.”
A highly stressful movie (of a good sort) that’s an exhausting ride (wear your seatbelt), my heart was in my stomach, my stomach was in my throat, and my soul was in the outer stratosphere of pins and needles. There hasn’t been this level of exhilaration since Slumdog Millionaire. Sit back, be entertained, and watch as J. K. Simmons takes home an Oscar for best supporting actor as Damien Chazelle is nominated for Best Director. ♔ ♕ ♚ ♛