Imagine getting music tutelage from your personal idol who proceeds to physically and verbally birate you like Gunnary Sergeant Hartman from Full Metal Jacket and you'll have some idea of what you're in store for with Whiplash. Miles Teller is terrific as drummer who is prepared to move heaven and earth to appease his monstrous instructor, whose coaching tactics give "encouragement" a whole new meaning. J. K. Simmons is utterly terrifying as the instructor, a man so vicious and without mercy, that some may not be able to take it. As cruel and seemingly inhuman as his tactics may be, I hope by the time Whiplash ends, audiences can see that they are not done simply for cruelty's sake and do in fact represent the very heart and soul of this film. Some may argue similar tactics should never be tolerated under any circumstances, I refer those people to the film's often referenced Charlie Parker story. Bolstered by brilliant, Oscar worthy acting and pit-in-the-stomach realism, Whiplash is riveting stuff from beginning to end. But be warned, it is not pretty.
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