Mr. Fletcher is portrayed by J.K. Simmons (pictured above), the teacher who seems to lack even an ounce of sympathy for his students. Simmons won an Oscar for his supporting role in Whiplash alongside lead character Miles Teller (courtesy of bagogames on flickr).
This point in the semester sucks. If you’re anything like me, you’ve got presentations, projects and a second round of exams rolling around, but all you really want to do is dress up and have fun on Halloweekend.
Basically, it’s that intermittent time of the year where everyone has a whole lot to do and a whole little motivation to do it. It’s an all too human experience, really. How much of what you love, what you want or even just what makes you human are you willing to sacrifice in order to pursue academic, professional or personal success?
There’s this psychological term called “cognitive dissonance,” and it refers to the mental stress that comes from holding two contradictory beliefs in your head simultaneously—I think that’s the best way to describe the difficulties surrounding this time of year. We want to succeed, but we’re also tired and want to have fun and those thoughts are constantly at war with each other.
Because I am the person that I am and this column is what it is, it’s time to talk about a movie that I enjoy a great deal, which can also help to work through some of this dissonance. Whiplash, WTF?
Let me start by asking: ya like jazz? Damien Chazelle’s 2014 drama stars Miles Teller as an ambitious, driven young jazz drummer named Andrew Neiman who enrolls at a prestigious New York City music conservatory in the hopes that his name will one day be remembered with jazz greats like Charlie “Bird” Parker. Don’t roll your eyes though, because, contrary to what the description may lead you to think, the movie is nearly two hours of pure cinematic adrenaline.
It explores the nuances of Neiman’s relationship with the infamous Mr. Fletcher, an abusive barbarian of a teacher that aims to tease greatness from his students no matter the cost. Chazelle takes the seemingly cliché trope of exploring a student-teacher relationship and turns it into a thrilling social commentary about the cost of greatness.
It’s fitting to write about this movie around Halloween, as J.K. Simmons gives the performance of his career as Fletcher—a character that would feel more at home in a horror movie than in one about jazz.
Like the villain of any compelling psychological thriller, Fletcher, dressed in a fitted black t-shirt that emphasizes his imposing build, is charming but terrifying, charismatic but menacing—cognitive dissonance personified.
Throughout the course of the movie, Fletcher launches homophobic slurs at Neiman, hurls furniture at him, physically abuses him and repeatedly makes him drum until his hands bleed; for the most part, Neiman takes it in stride. Desperate for the teacher’s approval, the young student gradually erases the elements of his life that should anchor him, showing that he will do anything to achieve his goal.
Sound familiar? During a notable candid moment, Fletcher explains the admittedly predictable rationale for his problematic teaching style, “there are no two words in the English language more harmful than ‘good job.’”
His entire worldview stems from believing that affirmation prevents excellence and that it takes his problematic, toxic approach to unlock the hidden greatness in his student. Though (hopefully) not as extreme, Fletcher’s ideology is eerily reminiscent of that which college seems to take—particularly at this stage of the semester.
The movie’s masterpiece of a finale is one of the most cathartic moments I’ve ever seen in a movie, wordlessly resolving the mentor-mentee conflict while simultaneously leaving value judgements regarding Fletcher’s thesis up to the audience. After being humiliated by Fletcher on Carnegie Hall’s center stage, Neiman defies him. What follows is a battle of wills told only through music and facial cues, culminating in a truly prolific performance from Neiman where he proves to the world, Fletcher and, most importantly, himself that he can be great.
Whiplash is compelling because, as tyrannical and awful as Fletcher can be, he isn’t entirely wrong. Encouragement can beget complacency, and the movie, like Neiman, walks the line between ambition and mental health.
It’s an inspiring movie to watch during the doldrums of a semester due to how, like Fletcher, the movie implicitly seeks to push people beyond what is expected of them.