Alison Rowat
Whiplash (15)
four stars
Dir: Damien Chazelle
With: Miles Teller, JK Simmons, Paul Reiser
Runtime: 106 minutes
EVERY once in a while something different leaps from Hollywood's mass production line. Not a reinvention of the movie wheel, maybe, but a variation on a theme, one that results in a picture which moves, excites and surprises an audience in ways they thought had long ago left the building. Damien Chazelle's drama, set in the world of jazz drumming, is such a crowd-pleasing, punch-the-air delight.
Yes, you read that right, jazz drumming. As sponsored, or it should be, by headache tablet manufacturers. Jazz, and the type of complex compositions from which the film takes its title, would not be many people's first choice of a soundtrack for a 106-minute film. But in this case, the fireworks display that is jazz drumming is the perfect accompaniment to the goings on as a young music student, Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller) acquires a hero in the form of band leader and music school tutor Terence Fletcher (JK Simmons).
Once again, using the ESP of a movie critic, I am sensing a problem out there. Oh dear, you might be thinking, not another inspirational teacher drama, a genre that is about as old and tired as Mr Chips would be if he was still teaching in one of those bog-standard
comprehensives in England. Not another inspirational teacher drama after Dead Poets Society, Freedom Writers, Educating Rita, Dangerous Minds and all the other tales of singular individuals who open up the world of education and all its wonders to previously poor, benighted souls. All one can say in response is that sometimes, as with jazz and Chazelle's movie, it is best just to go with the flow. Doubts assuaged? Then music, maestro please.
Andrew is a student at a prestigious music school in New York, the kind of place that makes those who thought they were musical prodigies realise they are just one of many talented kids. He is a loner, a guy who would rather spend hours practising the drums on his own than go out and enjoy himself. He forgoes all that good college stuff because he wants to be like his hero, Buddy Rich, and not at all like his dad (Paul Reiser), a man who has a great novel in him if only he had the time, and talent, to write it.
Andrew does not want to be the losing kind. Nor does Fletcher, who runs the school's jazz band and manages their way through music competitions. Bald, muscular, with a manner that would make Fergie in hairdryer mode look like the Vicar of Dibley, Fletcher is out to win, and he does not care if a few young egos are bruised, or some fingers bleed, along the way. To Andrew, in search of a father figure he can look up to, Fletcher is the man to please. Whatever it takes, he wants a place in the band.
JK Simmons won best supporting actor at the Golden Globes this week, but this picture belongs to him as surely as if it had his name in the title. Finally, the actor too often in the background in films such as Spider-Man and Contraband, gets to be front and centre of camera, and my goodness he rips the bones out of the part. Which is not to say that Teller, often seen in numbskull comedies to date, does not impress. Skilful, assured, with charisma to burn, Teller makes a terrific young hero, but he still only stands knee high to Simmons' towering performance.
Chazelle's previous picture was Grand Piano, a thriller that crossed the line between hold your breath tension and pure hokiness. Some might wonder at times if Whiplash, with that inspirational teacher theme to the fore, is destined to go the same way. It doesn't, with all concerned keeping their eyes on the prize of making a picture that is clever, surprising, and has a lot to say about father figures, sons, and what is worth scrabbling, and suffering for, in life. Oh, and the music is not bad either.
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