Whiplash is a movie about passion. And although passion can be a wonderful quality, at times, it can also take someone too far. It can grip too tightly. It can create an irrational justification for behavior. It can sever humanity from the human. It can hurt.
Having seen the trailer for Whiplash a few times, I was prepared for a jolt. The trailer looked big and loud and fast and fun and frightening. The passion that dominates the beginning of the trailer slams to a halt as it takes a sharp left turn down a dark path, guided by a new passion, one that is dark and sinister and abusive. The movie followed that same course.
As the story began, I admired the passion our jazz drummer had. He had grit and determination. He had zeal. But at what cost do we allow ourselves to pursue a dream? We look for the right person to guide us on that pursuit. But what of the person who holds the ladder up to help you, then holds a burning flame to you to make you climb faster?
My favorite scene in the film plays out unlike any of the others. Instead of in the studio practice room or on stage performing, the characters are around the dinner table. Family members from generations are comparing and excusing and diminishing and bragging and belittling. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s not unfamiliar. We’ve seen these narrow views of what can be considered a success. We’ve seen those who do not value the arts. We’ve seen family discord. But we see all of that here a bit differently. It’s more uncomfortable. It’s, thankfully, a bit less familiar. It’s definitely biting.
As I watched the movie, and perhaps due to that dinner-table conversation, I kept thinking of athletics. I wondered how many young people have had to deal with the sort of abusive power shown in the movie. I wondered how many parents turn a blind eye because their child gets the attention and accolades. I wondered how many programs ignore the warning signs. But as my movie companion said to me afterward, as long as a leader is getting results and bringing prestige, the eyes too often are blinded by that success. At the end of the day, I actually like this portrayal that shows how the intensity for music and the arts can be the same as that of the higher-famed, American-loved sports heroes. Passion comes in all varieties and for all pursuits.
I don’t know if we should push others or ourselves to such extreme lengths to pursue and improve and achieve. But if we don’t, I don’t know how many of the greats we would never have known. Of course, there is a line on that journey that most of us never cross. Should we bemoan others because they do? Should we be their protector? But from whom? The one in power or themselves? After all, once one is an adult, the person gets to make those decisions. But at what cost? Concussions in college sports? Assault by coaches? Humiliation by directors? Is there a time when we should be able to voluntarily and knowingly subject ourselves to that level of abusive “encouragement”? But at what age can we say that doing so really is knowingly? And I cannot believe that we *need* such abuse in order for the greats to reach their potential. It is there where I reject the movie’s premise, a premise irrationally clung to and delusionally believed by the characters portrayed. Of course, my rejecting it does not mean such delusional thoughts don’t exist. They do. The abuse is out there. But I, unlike our characters, do not believe they are necessary.
Miles Teller has broken out of his rom–com characters and delivers here a gripping performance of a young man with a single focus. He’s charismatic and calm, and his gift to develop a character shines in this role. It is clear that he, like the character he plays in Whiplash, has passion. This, surely, is his breakout role.
JK Simmons excels at an even higher level. He brings a quiet intensity to the screen unlike I’ve seen in some time. I felt myself holding my breath waiting for his response. For his look. For his wrath. He rightfully earned his recent Golden Globe nomination for supporting actor. And although he’s been around a lot longer and has much more experience than Teller, this too may be his breakout role. He dominates this film. Quietly. Intensely. Abusively. And with passion.