Whiplash is the story of a young talented drummer named Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller) who enrolls in the toughest music conservatory in town. There, he soon grabs the attention of a mentor Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons), who is an absolute perfectionist and whose prime goal in life is to push their musicians beyond their limits to awaken their genius. Neyman's excitement at the opportunity leads him to romantically practice really hard in order to impress his mentor and follow his wishes, but soon enough the questionable and cutthroat techniques used by Fletcher begins to have a negative effect on him and his sweat and blood stained gradually becomes the object that most represents an unhealthy obsession.
The tense relationship between the two is full of suspense, which is heightened by Chazelle's use of stark contrast between the golden backdrops and implied glamour with an exciting pace that resembles the momentum of a rolling cannonbomb or the pathos of a ticking timebomb ready to explode at any minute. This tension is amplified by the excellent performances by Teller and Simmons. Teller is always lieable and simmering as Neyman, and his bravado fuelled passion is constantly infectuous. Simmons, on the other hand, has hardly been better, delivering a performance that makes his character seem fascinatingly villainous. The two, also representing a key element of contrast with their drastically opposed roles, share a chemistry that is even unparalleled in the music prodigy genre and reaches perfection that could me best represented by their thrilling glance exchanges in the practice rooms. It must also be noted that there is a third, vital character in the film - Neyman's father who represents the complete opposite of Fletcher and the theme of the father and son relationship contributes to a further deepening of the drama.
Whiplash is named after a composition by Hank Levy, who was renowned for his unusual time signatures, so in a further show of the afore mentioned confidence, the exciting editing style adds further cohesion in a film that is perfectly comfortable in conveying its visual style, pace and narrative with its music right down to its particulars. The importance of the musical score too is never undermined, and it too is shaped, moulded and distorted through great effect. In an unforgettably acute sequence, Fletcher keeps telling Neyman to restart his number with the right tempo, before hurling a chair at him. The first is played repeatedly, and constantly stopped, revealing frustration and a mounting fear in the eyes of the young drummer broken up by a shock that is uncomfortably funny but simoultaneously deeply dramatic.
It's quite rare to find a film that knows no dead moments, and that constantly progresses with relentless intensity the way in which Whiplash does - and in fact in the way in which a great drummer should know how to play, like an engine. There's not much bad to say about the film, that even finds time to reward the audience with an ending that is somewhat unusual in a film where jazz plays a key role - but will certainly not be spoiled by CineCola (all that can be said is that it involves an amazing, heart stopping musical sequence that must be seen to be believed! Exciting and gripping from start to finish, Whiplash is hands down one of the most important films of the year and it shouldn't susprise anyone if it should start a cinematic trend and an array of copycat movies in future years.
