A review of Whiplash (2014)
Directed by Damien Chazelle
Damien Chazelle's sophomore effort, Whiplash, is a highly entertaining film about the relationship between a jazz drummer and his sadistic teacher. Intense is the word often bandied around to describe this film, and it's pretty damn accurate. From the first down to the very last drumbeat, it capitulates the spirit of its namesake, a jazz standard from Hank Levy: bombastic, pulse pounding and dynamic, switching from one time signature to another. JK Simmons and Miles Teller as Neiman and Fletcher are the perfect pair acting wise - they have a chemistry, or should I say anti-chemistry, that makes the film work, not to mention they are excellent actors by themselves. Chazelle channels his own experiences as a jazz drummer into the movie, and visually every edit and cue adds to the film's intensity. The stage becomes a battlefield. All in all, Whiplash is a great film and makes for entertaining viewing.
Now if you ask me if this film is a good jazz film, I'd have to say no.
There is one thing that I didn't see in the music in this film, except at the start and at the very end: I felt no passion or love in wanting to learn the music or in perfecting the craft. All we see is our protagonist trying to be the best because he wants the approval of his teacher. While this dynamic is the heart of the film, it does a disservice to what jazz is. There is no spirit of collaboration within the ensemble, no exchange of ideas - as iron sharpens iron, the proverb says - and that's the essence of what jazz is. It's not called an ensemble for nothing - jazz is a controlled, yet at times impromptu conversation using music - and the best conversations need love.
That's why Whiplash could be about the lengths to which people go to achieve their craft - any craft, not just jazz - and the pitfalls that come with it. It's about how institutionalised abuse can exist for years and how no one bats an eyelash. Fletcher's methods may produce the type of fiery incandescent genius he wants, but like all things touched by fire, they burn out. His methods also do not foster any kind of cooperation between Neiman's colleagues, and the film instead focuses on the relationship between student and teacher, an artistic decision that ultimately makes Whiplash a better film, but a worse jazz film.
There's a moment in Chazelle's first film, Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench, that reveals the dichotomy of the depiction of music between that film and Whiplash. In the former, there's an impromptu performance in a house complete with tap dancing in the middle of the film. It's exuberant, full of creativity and brimming with the sheer love and fun of music. On the other hand, towards the end of Whiplash the final drum solo is a display of pure technical skill, forged through hell, overflowing with passion and intensity. As a film that does jazz justice, the former does a far better job. But as an overall film, Whiplash comes out on top.
Now if you ask me if this film is a good jazz film, I'd have to say no.
There is one thing that I didn't see in the music in this film, except at the start and at the very end: I felt no passion or love in wanting to learn the music or in perfecting the craft. All we see is our protagonist trying to be the best because he wants the approval of his teacher. While this dynamic is the heart of the film, it does a disservice to what jazz is. There is no spirit of collaboration within the ensemble, no exchange of ideas - as iron sharpens iron, the proverb says - and that's the essence of what jazz is. It's not called an ensemble for nothing - jazz is a controlled, yet at times impromptu conversation using music - and the best conversations need love.
That's why Whiplash could be about the lengths to which people go to achieve their craft - any craft, not just jazz - and the pitfalls that come with it. It's about how institutionalised abuse can exist for years and how no one bats an eyelash. Fletcher's methods may produce the type of fiery incandescent genius he wants, but like all things touched by fire, they burn out. His methods also do not foster any kind of cooperation between Neiman's colleagues, and the film instead focuses on the relationship between student and teacher, an artistic decision that ultimately makes Whiplash a better film, but a worse jazz film.
There's a moment in Chazelle's first film, Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench, that reveals the dichotomy of the depiction of music between that film and Whiplash. In the former, there's an impromptu performance in a house complete with tap dancing in the middle of the film. It's exuberant, full of creativity and brimming with the sheer love and fun of music. On the other hand, towards the end of Whiplash the final drum solo is a display of pure technical skill, forged through hell, overflowing with passion and intensity. As a film that does jazz justice, the former does a far better job. But as an overall film, Whiplash comes out on top.
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