Not Quite My Tempo: The Brutality of Whiplash

“There are no two words in the English language more harmful than ‘Good job, ’” says the great almighty Terrence Fletcher. After rewatching Whiplash, I’m convinced that this quote – strange as it sounds without context – perfectly captures the film’s exploration of moral boundaries. So what exactly is it about? Let’s dive in.

Whiplash (2014), directed by Damien Chazelle and starring J.K. Simmons and Miles Teller, is a psychological drama set in the prestigious but cutthroat world of music education. It tells the story of young and ambitious jazz drummer Andrew Neiman, who aspires to become “one of the greats”. While studying at the Shaffer Conservatory, he meets the highly esteemed Terence Fletcher, conductor of Shaffer’s most reputable jazz band, the Studio Band. You could call him an inspiration — assuming, of course, your idea of inspiration involves having a cymbal thrown at your head. Fletcher pushes Neiman to the brink, and sure, he gets his shot at greatness – but at what cost? Well, let’s just say that he’d “rather die drunk, broke at 34 and have people at a dinner table talk about [him] than live to be rich and sober at 90 and nobody remembered who [he] was."

To me, Whiplash was a horror movie. Not only because of Fletcher, who I have to admit was absolutely dreadful (J.K. Simmons was terrifying, guys!), but also because of what happened psychologically to Neiman. Let’s take a deeper look at the two incredibly complex characters.

Spoiler alert: The next part of this article discusses scenes from the movie, which are very spoiler-heavy. 

Terrence Fletcher

A Gaslighting Master

Early on in the film, Fletcher, while throwing a fit of verbal assault, forces Neiman to count at a metronome marking 215 BPM, then screams at him for getting it wrong. Out of curiosity, I pulled out my metronome, set it to 215 BPM, and played it over Neiman’s counting. 

What I discovered was bananas.

Neiman was counting perfectly at 215 BPM! Fletcher, however, continues to berate him – “ARE YOU RUSHING OR ARE YOU DRAGGING?”, he hollers. News flash: either Fletcher has a superhuman ear and the rest of us are rhythmically challenged, or Neiman is actually neither rushing nor dragging (which probably is the case). Not only is counting at a given tempo off the top of your head basically impossible, this is an early cue that Fletcher is a manipulative psychopath performing his little social experiment in the name of “finding the next great musician”.

Another unforgettable scene in the movie that showcases Fletcher’s lack of mercy is when none of the three drummers – Neiman, Tanner, and Connolly – were able to keep up with his impossible tempo. From, I kid you not, 9 PM to 2 AM, Fletcher pushes them to the absolute brink, barking profanity-laced insults at them and hurling objects around the room like a man possessed. How he kept that level of energy for five straight hours at midnight, I have no clue. All I know is that the three drummers were so beaten up by the end that all of their hands were bleeding from drumming. As a pianist myself, I cannot even imagine letting myself practice until my hands are bleeding. This is why Fletcher is a musician’s biggest fear: he is a control freak who demands more than what is possible.

This is where his famous quote mentioned at the beginning of this article comes into play: “There are no two words in the English language more harmful than ‘good job’.”. In other words, he considers abuse to be the only means to achieve greatness. He genuinely believes that by encouraging, you are also encouraging complacency. In my opinion, this is valid to some extent since much of my own improvement would not have happened without harsh criticism, and I’m sure this is true for many of you readers. But when abuse is taken to Terrence Fletcher level, it becomes an ethical issue – are his actions justified?

A Negligent Sociopath

You’ve probably guessed it already – Fletcher has absolutely no regard for other people’s emotions (or frankly, other people at all). He is about as empathetic as Lord Voldemort and as warm as an icy cold Siberian winter, so if you ever decide to watch the movie one day, never expect his random acts of “friendliness” to be actually genuine. 

He is so callous to the point of being problematic. For instance, when Tanner, the core drummer, expressed that he wasn’t able to play the music from memory because of a medical condition, Fletcher taunts him, saying, “a medical condition – what are you, Sanjay Gupta? Play the goddamn music”. 

Let that sink in. He’s making fun of someone for having a medical condition. 

The only time Fletcher has ever shown an ounce of human emotion was when Sean Casey, his former star student who became “one of the greats”, died in a car accident. And before you all go, “wait, maybe he actually does care about his students”, I can assure you that he remains emotionally detached. Fletcher is tearful not because Sean Casey was human, but because Sean Casey was a very talented musician. We learn later on that he in fact did not die from a car accident but rather hanged himself because of the severe mental illness he developed under Fletcher’s instruction.

With that being said, although Fletcher is, evidently, a cold-blooded puppeteer when it comes to his students, he seems to genuinely believe that his brutality is the only way the next great musician will arise. The bleeding hands, the broken spirits – that was all collateral damage. This is what makes him such a polarizing figure: he is cruel, but he is committed; he is ruthless, but he is determined.

Now, let’s dive into the other hopelessly complicated character: protagonist Andrew Neiman.

Andrew Neiman

The Consequences of Toxic Ambition

I have zero clue how I can love Neiman but hate him at the same time. In many ways, we are similar, and I understand him. However, it was difficult to watch him slowly spiral into obsession and genuinely begin to believe that relationships and happiness have no value in life. 

Neiman’s mindset is perfectly captured in a dinner table scene with his family. Despite literally practicing the drums until his hands bleed daily, his achievements go unnoticed by his family. On the other hand, his cousins get glazed over for what he dismissively calls “insignificant” football accomplishments. Fed up, Neiman points out that their football team is only Division III, implying that his success is far more prominent. And while I get where he’s coming from (we’ve all been there, grinding hard while no one seems to care), I have to admit: at this moment, he just sounds like an arrogant douchebag. His dad agrees, because later, he asks him if he has any friends. His answer defines his mentality: he doesn’t, because he doesn’t see the use for it. 

The film’s core message is that there’s more to life than being famous and rich; as Neiman’s dad puts it, the point of life is not for you to be remembered by a bunch of random people for being great at drumming, but to be remembered by your loved ones for being human. 

Moral Dilemma

Whiplash poses a very pertinent ethical question: Does greatness in any way justify abuse?

For those of us who lie awake at night chewing on philosophical conundrums, this is truly a knotty question. On one hand, coddling will not get you anywhere. On the other hand, undergoing psychological damage inflicted by a mentor may produce results, but at the cost of so much more – your mental and physical health, your relationships, and maybe even your idea of the point of life. 

To understand this fully, I recommend that you pay close attention to the ending scene. The film ends on an ambiguous note – some view it as a triumph, believing that Neiman’s psychological destruction was a necessary sacrifice, whereas others, myself included, view it as a tragedy, a surrender to Fletcher’s worldview where humanity is expendable and only success matters.

How you interpret this ending depends on how you answer the moral dilemma presented. Whiplash doesn’t tell you what to think – it shows you what the pursuit of perfection can do to someone.

Personal Opinions

Let’s face it – I am no film connoisseur. I am certainly not able to dissect the film’s specific use of pacing, lighting, or music, and am no different from the rest of you movie-watchers; therefore, I am only basing my opinions on my overall enjoyment of the movie and how much of an impact it had on me. 

Whiplash was not only as suspenseful as a full-blown horror movie, but was also surprisingly comedic at the same time. I know it seems counterintuitive, but you can’t help but laugh at some of Fletcher’s sassy roasts. Okay, within the context of the movie, they weren’t funny at all, but taken out of context, they made me cackle. However, they are all quite vulgar, so make sure to consider that before you decide to watch the movie!

I rate Whiplash a 5/5, not only because of its entertainment value but also because of the very prominent themes it explored. I found that I related to Neiman a lot, mainly because I myself am at times obsessive like he is, although definitely not to as extreme an extent as him. It was a reminder that the pursuit of greatness can be detrimental to oneself, especially when the very meaning of human life is disregarded. The film taught me many life lessons, and it has made my top 3 favourite movies!

Final Thoughts

All I can really say now is that all of you should go watch Whiplash right now – it really is that good. So, if one day you’re feeling suspenseful and want to watch something that will make you feel uneasy, go fetch a blanket and some snacks and turn on the TV, because you certainly will not be disappointed.