“Alternates, wipe the blood off my drums”

Written and shot by the young American director Damien Chazelle, Whiplash is an ambitious piece of storytelling that chronicles the development and suffering of a young musician with dreams of becoming one of the greatest drummers of his generation. The film follows Shaffer Conservatory of Music freshman Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller), who is handpicked by the demanding and much-feared teacher, Terrence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons), to be a drummer in a jazz orchestra created for the competition circuit.

Bald, muscly, and always wearing black clothes, Terence Fletcher is volatile and predatory from the outset. In his position of power Fletcher uses intimidation and fear tactics to push his jazz band to perfection. He uses his students as though they themselves are instruments that need to be manipulated to get the sound he wants. At times Fletcher’s actions push past the point of credibility and the plot in general gradually becomes less believable as it builds to a climax. Unforgiving barks such as “alternates, wipe the blood of my drums” and “I’m not gonna have you cost us a competition because your minds on a fuckin’ happy meal instead of on pitch” are directed at anyone who isn’t up to scratch. His enraged monologues feel simultaneously horrific and darkly humorous. Fletcher makes no apologies for his tough love and is confident that the next great drummer will rise to the occasion. He puts a face to the cutthroat world of the performing arts and this savage character brings out a truly unforgettable performance by J.K. Simmons.

Andrew deals with Fletcher’s mental and physical abuse by subjecting himself to days of intensive practice in a frantic obsession to gain a stronger beat. This makes for one of the most emotionally charged montages I’ve ever seen on the big screen. The film details Andrew’s suffering with an almost pornographic sensibility. Lingering close ups of the blood, sweat and tears shed during the film are used to highlight the pervading atmosphere of sadomasochism that the central characters inhabit. Few films maintain such a strong feeling of suspense throughout, and Whiplash is one of them.

With a total running time of just 106 minutes, the tight editing keeps the audience engaged throughout and adds to the impact of the storytelling. In a time where many films are too long and too dumb, Whiplash makes for a refreshingly raw and enigmatic watch. However, Andrew is too much of a blank slate away from his drum kit and the film would have benefitted by fleshing out his character. The relationship Andrew initiates with Nicole (Melissa Benoist) near the beginning of the film feels too much like a throwaway subplot. Nicole is simply there to provide contrast between her indecisive outlook on life as a mediocre student, and Andrew- a rapacious tunnel-visionary. Their brief relationship comes across as a weak attempt to demonstrate the sacrifices Andrew feels he must make under the distressing conclusion that he cannot love and drum at the same time. The blunt break-up explanation shows the first signs that Andrew is beginning to see the method in Fletcher’s madness.

Whiplash has little to say about the practices of the characters it follows, except for making you wonder, in this struggle for the beau ideal, whether the sacrifice is worth the reward.

The title of the film refers to the Hank Levy song of the same name that is played during Andrew’s audition. But the title also alludes to the break-neck speeds with which Andrew’s situation changes, most of which come as a result of his teacher’s calculated exploits. Fletcher’s seemingly instantaneous transitions between periods of neglect and bursts of savagery is what makes this film so exhilarating and Damian Chazelle does a fantastic job of captivating the emotional whiplash that Andrew experiences.

Despite the amount of drumming in the film, Whiplash is more of a suspense thriller than a musical drama. Music merely provides a backdrop in this whirlwind exposition of an intense mentor protégé relationship, during which we observe Andrew’s metamorphosis from a shy, lonely first year to a musician every bit as determined and talented as his teacher. Whiplash has its faults, but you cannot criticize the execution, with thrillingly fetishistic cinematography thanks to Sharone Meir and a great soundtrack from Justin Hurwitz to boot.

Critics have gone as far to say that Whiplash is to drumming what Raging Bull is to boxing. And for a 29 year old to create such a visceral piece of cinema in only his second feature length film on a shoestring budget of $3.3 million is simply astounding.