SPOILERS
All the music teachers who ever taught me were fearsome to some degree. It doesn't take a lot to scare me but Mrs. Jennings, Mr. Dickson and Mr. Clarke made most of their students nervous with their dictatorial methods. Even gentle choirmaster Mr. Storey could be tough at times. Mrs. Jennings wouldn't hesitate to single out one person in a roughly 60 strong middle school choir if they were mucking about. Mr. Dickson's anger probably just came from having a surname that was easily mockable by comprehensive school students and Mr. Clarke was, I think, just frustrated by my general slow progress with the violin. None of them, however, are a patch on Dr. Terence Fletcher in Whiplash, as played by J.K. Simmons, channelling some of the anger of his earlier, more comical, performance in Sam Raimi's Spider-Man films as Daily Bugle editor J. Jonah Jameson. Here, in a sense, he's gone from Peter Parker to Charlie Parker but now he's deadly serious.
Perhaps if these tutors had been half as tough on me as Fletcher is on his students then I might have reached greater musical heights (or given up faster). At least I still have my violin. Yet, as Whiplash demonstrates, the desire to be great must come from within, as it does with young Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller), who idolises Jazz legends Buddy Rich and Charlie Parker, AKA 'Bird'. 19 year old Andy's one goal in life is to be a drumming hero like his idols and he sees his chance to achieve this by impressing Fletcher - the Gunnery Sergeant Apone of upstate New York's Shaffer Conservatory of Music. Andy does this early on in the film and is willing to go to almost unbelievably extreme lengths to please a music teacher unhinged in his obsession with finding the next 'Bird' by bullying his students through shouting, name-calling, slapping, chair-throwing, insulting their parents and forcing them to relentlessly rehearse until they are on his tempo, or their fingers snap off. This dude is marching to a different drum, for sure - BOOM, BOOM!
Andy makes it into Fletcher's Studio Band as a 'squeaker' (someone who tunes and turns pages for the main drummer) and we learn about the band's existing musicians through the new boy's nervous eyes. They all seem ambivalent towards him, talking amongst themselves as they tune up. Then, apropos of nothing, a saxophonist shoots up from his seat and bellows 'MILK THE C**T!' This threw me and I didn't know if he was referring to Andy and what this would mean for the poor lad if he was, or whether the saxophonist meant Fletcher, whom they're expecting and who enters shortly after, instilling silence in the group. His behaviour from this point on easily justifies calling him a c**t but everyone pays him the utmost respect and fear.
My later Google search confirmed that the sweary saxophonist was commanding the pianist to play Middle C in order for other band members to tune their instruments to it. It seems extreme language for such a thing, yet it's indicative of the sort of aggressive, tough atmosphere that Fletcher has created, to hear one of his musicians talk like that. It's not a phrase I remember hearing amongst middle school or church choirs, so it must just be a jazz band thing. If any jazz musicians are reading this, please feel free to let me know in the comments.
Camaraderie is somewhat rare in Fletcher's band, unsurprisingly, given the overt competition he engenders. His underhand tactics also cause friction the like of which would surely be unhelpful in reality for keeping a band together enough to reach the heights Fletcher expects ('Fletcher Expects' would be a slogan on posters all over Shaffer, were it not engraved on its students' hearts and souls) in his musical cult. Andy abandons friends, girls and neglects his family in his pursuit of greatness under Fletcher's eye. Yet, Andy has chosen this ascetic life and Fletcher is only too happy to take advantage of the boy's decision. He has the perfect pupil in Andy - one for whom drumming is a religion and who is happy to let Fletcher be his god. Andy has the kind of self-belief I only dreamt of at 19; the kind of focus and bloody-mindedness required to achieve a goal but at the cost of everything else in his life. The question Whiplash prompts is, is it worth it? Why is Fletcher seemingly the only way to greatness for Andy? No. There must be other teachers capable of pushing him to the next level but we only see Mr. Kramer at the beginning, who is softer on students and defers to Fletcher as they do.
At one point, Andy profanely berates another band member down the phone, Fletcher-style, whilst speeding to an important gig at a concert hall in a hired car. Andy's rant is cut short, however by a crash so realistically forceful, I actually felt like his passenger. Less believable, though, is the fact that, after crawling out of the wreck bleeding and shaken, Andy races to the concert hall to drum. It's not that he manages to keep playing following the crash but that his drive (so to speak) and obsession with drumming is so intense, he won't even let a car accident stop him. I went along with this whilst watching the film but felt less convinced afterwards.
If I were Andy, I personally would have given up after Fletcher's abuse during the first studio session. I guess this is the point, though. Andy wants drumming glory so badly that he thinks he must convince Fletcher he's the right drummer for 'Whiplash' to get the chance to impress the industry bods at the performance. Doing this whilst suffering from actual whiplash isn't likely to achieve that goal, though.
Andy's dedication is admirable but also sad in that all he wants in life is to be a great drummer and we get no indication of why except a video of him impressing his dad with a drum solo as a little boy. I think, when we the audience are expected to watch a lead character so closely, we deserve a little more explanation. The father and son relationship is a touching one and a cornerstone of the film. Fletcher threatens to supersede the mild-mannered Jim Neyman (Paul Reiser - Burke from Aliens, I'd wondered what had happened to him over the years!) as a father figure in being someone who not only truly understands Andy's goal in life - unlike his real Dad, who only seems tolerant of it - but may help him fulfil it, just by the most brutal means necessary. Fletcher later explains that he's as tough as he is because he is trying to give the world the next Charlie Parker, which won't happen if he goes easy on students. There is possibly some unresolved trauma of Fletcher's own also coming into play but Andy seems to understand and respect the older man's reasoning. I would argue that greatness doesn't have to come from boot camp tactics, surely there must be great drummers out there who reached the heights they did through respectful encouragement and pushing from their teachers? That and lots of practice and sacrifice.
I love a good bully vs victim story and Whiplash is a fine example. Just watching the abuse Andy takes from Fletcher in the trailer made me want the kid to ram his drumsticks up his tutor's nostrils until they burst out of the Professor's shiny, bald, veiny head. Instead and no doubt for the better, the film forgoes such a retaliatory route for a more interesting one. We don't get to see Andy beat up Fletcher (not exactly, anyway), or Jim Neyman rumble with him, which would have taken the satisfaction away from watching Andy bring him down a note or two later. Happily, Andy does grab life by the drumsticks in the end.
Prior to the concert hall performance, Andy thankfully starts to fight back against Fletcher's bullying once his progress is threatened after the Professor gives Andy's 'Whiplash' part to another drummer. This comes to a head when Andy tackles his teacher to the floor. When Fletcher loses his job at Shaffer after his methods cause serious problems and blames Andy for the sacking, he embarrasses his former student in front of a band and a live audience, including Neyman Sr. All that's left for Andy to do is play Fletcher at his own game, using his drumming - what he's best at - to regain self-respect and, more importantly, the respect of the audience (off-screen and on).
This seems to be a theme with drummers, since, earlier, Fletcher recalls Charlie Parker's drive to excel stemming from his desire not to be laughed at again after a disastrous early performance, followed by a dressing-down from his own music tutor. Of Fletcher, Jim asks Andy, 'His opinion really matters to you, doesn't it?' It matters too much. Yet, why else would any performer get up and do their thing in front of others in the first place, if not to gain their approval? Even though the final, rousing (and overlong) number shows Andy taking control over Fletcher, is it also Andy wanting to earn back his former teacher's respect, even after Fletcher's horrible treatment of him and fellow musicians?
Not being a Jazz fan didn't impede my enjoyment of a film (although if you hate Jazz, it could be a struggle) where the drumming isn't the focus but the drama of someone who must overcome the monster to be the best.
