Whiplash (2014)

In Whiplash we are confronted with the meaning of artistic greatness and what we can, would, and should do for it. The story of a student jazz drummer in a prestigious music school and his submissiveness and eventual confrontation with his tyrannical instructor does not seem to be an original theme to start with, but the usual teacher-student Hollywood clichés are rendered useless here almost from the beginning, as any sense of our current sense of “fairness” and political correctness is destroyed with impunity.

It is up to the audience to decide if the instructor Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons) is a good-intentioned monster or if he is just a monster, plain and simple. He challenges his students with demands that seem to be absurd, creates jealousy among them and shakes any sense of comfort that they could legitimately aspire to. On the other side, Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller), the student, is not painted with rosy colors either. He is serious, he is ambitious, and his bleeding hands are a testimony of his dedication. However, we detect a scent of arrogance in his interventions during a family dinner, and he unexpectedly severs his relationship with a nice girlfriend that we have barely seen onscreen and who provides a tenuous link with normalcy in his life.

Director Damien Chazelle takes both characters to a sophisticated and cruel confrontation on the limits of sanity. Showing restraint and economy in every scene, supported by amazing actors, and achieving a top-notch technical level during the music performances, Whiplash delivers punch after punch of intense, unpredictable, and genuine situations.

This might be my favorite nominee for Best Picture in the Oscars 2015.