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Whiplash aka Varsity Blues With Drums

I couldn't wait to slip the DVD in. I clapped as JK Simmons accepted his Oscar and couldn't wait to see this fine actor take control of a movie and make it his. My father had raved about it just the night before. I was so excited for this. Nothing I'd heard would have prepared me for what I was about to see.

Twenty-five minutes of instrument tuning and practice and then the movie begins. We realize something right away and my mind, a very experienced movie mind, started to map out the formulaic plot. Simmons, the strong coach/teacher, Teller the nervous, yet oddly bordering on cocky teen. His caring father, depicted as weak (because we all know, if you're not the coach or the teacher and the mom isn't there, you're either weak or abusive). The kid gets his shot. Yes, we never saw the reason coming six miles away. The blood squirting from his fingers...over and over and over. Wait for it, the coach shows he's human, the kid feels the shift of control, but this isn't real life, this is a movie, so the emotional coach was only using this to fuel his passion or someone else's. Then it happens. The made up story becomes reality as I'm writing it down. I then pause the movie and write down three more scenarios. Not only do they happen, but they happen in order of how I wrote them and within 30 seconds of each other. I then jot down the final scene. It happens as I scripted it, down the to the sudden black. No fade, just black. I was wrong about the location, but hell, that would have been cliche.

Whiplash let me down. Simmons is awful. He's R. Lee Ermey's drill sergeant in Full Metal Jacket without the fear behind him. He's the football coach with the perfect team. yet he wants to have the Heisman winner or the state championship or whatever it is he wants. He wants perfection, but doesn't ask if from the pretty girl, the fat kid, the faggot, the Irish kid...of course, being very careful not to play the race card of course, because of...Jazz? Who knows?

So there we are, the lights dim and the rest of the crowd is standing applauding. It's what you do at shows, whether it's Lincoln Center or the elementary school's spring concert. "Everyone was wonderful, especially you honey," says grandma. Hell, that would have been a better title. If you ever want to see a movie that encapsulates every cliche known to movie making, see Whiplash.  I'm actually going to say these words.

Drumline with Nick "fucking' Cannon is a better movie.

Comments

  1. AnonymousMarch 1, 2015 at 12:15 AM

    Your father is much smarter than you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hop's ThoughtsMarch 2, 2015 at 4:39 AM

      You are correct, but that doesn't really tell me much about why you would take time to comment and not add to the conversation.

      Delete

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