Whiplash, 9/10
This is the 2014 classic about a young studying jazz drummer, who ends up being put through the wringer in the conservatory band headed by JK Simmons' legendary Terence Fletcher. I hadn't seen this since it came out, and having grown and matured a fair bit since then, I can now see all the hype for this. When I saw the first time I thought it was great, but not necessarily anything groundbreaking. This film really requires some life experience to genuinely appreciate. I now see it as a character study about the line between passion and addiction, and between ambition and self-destruction. And it's brilliant.
The obvious out of the way first: JK Simmons' performance is one of the all-time greats. He creates a picture of a complex man about whom you're still not entirely sure even at the end. On one hand he seems like an abusive, abrasive asshole tyrant with zero regard for the well-being of others. Yet on the other hand he's an enormously talented man who's clearly and deeply passionate about his craft, and can be downright tender if you catch him on a good day. But it's in the way where the film makes you question both aspects where the film is at its most interesting: is his passion just an excuse for the abuse, or does he genuinely believe what he's doing is necessary, and ultimately the right thing to do? Is the tyrant a front, or is it the other way around? That we see his real self when he gets into the arena so to speak? The film gives enough evidence for both.
This will probably always remain Miles Teller's career defining performance, unless he pulls some late-career return in like 2060. He has a sort of slightly off, uncanny-ish presence that fits perfectly into this character: a terminally obsessive, singularly devoted automaton. I definitely didn't pick up on it the first time, but he's autistic-coded as fuck: he has no friends, hardly seems to interact with anyone in his daily life, and his entire being seems to be defined by one single obsession. It's signaled pretty overtly like in the dinner scene, but also in subtler ways: when we see the world through Andrew's eyes, even the people disappear. There's only music, sheets and instruments. I'm not even sure he's happy doing what he does. He seems to be sacrificing everything in his life because he feels like he has to, not because he wants to. Rewatching this reminded me in a way of "Tick Tick Boom", where there's also a protagonist in the art world obsessed with leaving a legacy and being remembered among the greats, and screw everything else. It's a pretty harrowing portrayal of when passion turns into addiction, and very much like addiction, you can't help a person who doesn't want to be helped. Andrew is exactly where he wants to be, no matter the cost. He is willing to drag himself across an ocean of broken glass just to get to that one high.
The music scenes are obviously brilliant, but this time I also took more note of the editing and framing. It's quite subtle, but very purposeful in how it deliberately makes all background characters fade from focus and blend together: to Andrew they're just people in the way, and to Terence they're just pawns to be played with. But the ending is what people discuss most often outside of JK Simmons, and this time I got it. It's an incredibly up to interpretation, bipolar ending, and you can see it in a lot of ways. Is it a triumph over adversity where Andrew finally proves himself? Or is it him wilfully submitting to his addiction and subsequent self-destruction, having finally earned Fletcher's approval at the cost of everything else? Or is it them both jumping off a cliff hand in hand, because Fletcher finally has his Charlie Parker, and Andrew finally feels like Charlie Parker? I've seen different people interpret this in various ways, and while I'm personally leaning heavily into the darker interpretation, I can perfectly see how other people might see it completely differently.
A well earned modern classic.