As I fell into the movie theatre seat, lazily chewing on my popcorn, I wasn’t expecting much of what I was about to see. “A movie about a drummer, how random is that?”, I was thinking to myself. My boyfriend, a passionate drummer, a movie nerd, and an avid fan of J.K. Simmons, pulled me into this.
When the film started, I wasn’t yet willing to enjoy it, affected by prejudice against a seemingly boring story. However, as the movie progressed, I was unable to stay indifferent to great acting and cinematography so I quickly shed the prejudice that I originally had. Moreover, I started to fall in love with the convincing story of a young drummer, Andrew, who gets tormented and humiliated by his teacher, Terence Fletcher. For the first time in my movie-going experience, J.K. Simmons’s Oscar-winning performance made me feel like I was the terrorized student behind the drum set. Neither did I think that a career in music could involve blood, sweat, and tears to the extent that it did in Whiplash.
I flashed back to my own experience with high expectations being set in school but I couldn’t recall anything even vaguely similar to the utterly intense scenes from Whiplash.
The last ten minutes of the film had me reeling on the edge of the seat. Centered on an electrifying musical performance given by Andrew, the finale was presented as a costly triumph that was ultimately worth the pain. The scene consisted of incredibly raw close-ups that gave me shivers. With blood gushing from his wound, Andrew played the drums like his life depended on it. The ten-minute finale was so intense that I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had to close my eyes and block my ears because I was absolutely certain that Andrew would end up going crazy or even dying. In fact, both Miles Tellers’s and J.K. Simmons’s incredible acting skills made me sympathize with Andrew to the point that I felt what he was feeling. This was the first time that a movie literally made me feel one with the character.
As the lights turned back on and people started leaving the auditorium, I remained still, as if struck by lightning.
It took me a few days to fully take in the movie. Upon reflecting on it, I remembered J.K. Simmons’s most famous line, “There are no two words in the English language more harmful than "good job". This line, perhaps, mirrors the essence of movie critiquing; indeed, there is nothing worse than a “good movie”. Thanks to Whiplash, I realized what sets brilliant films apart from good ones. The same exact story could be made into an incredibly bland, mediocre movie, but instead, it turned out to be the best film I’ve ever seen. Why? For me, it was the combination of incredible cinematography and top-notch acting that made Whiplash the epitome of hand-to-throat storytelling.
Here I am, hungry for more films that will drum up my interest in modern cinematography. Except that next time, I will put away the prejudice and dive into what might become the next ultimate movie experience.
