I have never felt more uncomfortable watching a movie, than the viewing experience I had with Whiplash. It won J.K. Simmons an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor, also known for his performances as J. Jonah Jameson in the Spider-Man franchise and as the voice of Tenzin in The Legend of Korra, his acting chops are not to be underestimated. He won several more awards, and the movie itself won Oscars for Best Achievement in Sound Mixing and Film Editing, as well as several more accolades, all of which are well-deserved. The movie also revealed how incredible a drummer Miles Teller is, as he revealed in an interview that he was self-taught but did the majority of drumming in the film.
As somewhat of an artist myself, watching the lengths Miles Tellers’ character Andrew goes to reach the top of the music world, felt personal. Andrew wants to be a professional drummer, to be recognized as one of the greats, but his family has no concept of the cutthroat nature of the music world, of what his position as core drummer in the top jazz orchestra in the world means, not only to him but for his future career. His family, while well-intentioned, put his brothers up on a pedestal as their paths are more traditional, succeeding in school and at football, but not to the same degree as him. Andrew’s drive to be noticed and to be the best is what propels him throughout the movie. This scene was very impactful, as even though it is more relaxed compared to some of the later scenes, you can feel his hurt and tension as the conversation continues and his siblings are praised. As a viewer, I was on his side in this moment; although it may not have been the most mature desire, he merely wanted to be understood in the same way his siblings were, not that he perceives himself as better than them. After everything he’d been put through by Simmons’ character, Fletcher, he deserves to be noticed.
Fletcher is a perfectionist conductor, who blew me away with his crudeness. However, I have known harsh directors, none nearly ever as unprofessionally informal and crass as Fletcher, but that is the point of his character. Every time he comes onscreen you feel nervous for Andrew, for the other students in the room. He very much lives by the motto of breaking a student down to make them better, but his methods are punishing and hugely offensive. There is a very short clip where we see him greeting a friend with a young daughter, and Fletcher acts gentle, asking the little girl if she’d like to be in his orchestra one day, and she agrees. My heart sank, knowing the treatment these students were going through at his hands, and he proved me right by barging in the room, swearing and yelling at them as usual. She is there to beg the question of how harsh should he really be to these students? Obviously, their positions are tenuous and exclusive, but we find out later that (spoiler warning! TW: Suicide) one of his former students killed himself, cracking under the pressure and the psychological scars his time with Fletcher gave him. Fletcher can make you the best, but many of his students can’t handle it. The man himself says he believes no one really understood what he was doing at Schaffer.
This film was like watching a car crash, which I never have in real life but have gotten to taste several times in movies (this one being no exception!). Fletcher believes that someone truly great would become stronger, almost like the carbon to diamond metaphor, that the students in his orchestra who fail were never meant to be great. Andrew himself shows that he is committed, to the most extreme of degrees, and at the end of the film, we see how much he is sacrificing in order to win that title in Fletcher’s eyes. Even if you don’t like drumming or music, if you have an interest in film, this movie is a must-watch. It’s a masterclass in acting, writing, and coloring, and leaves you to consider the lengths you would go to achieve your own dream.