A reflection on Chazelle's 'Whiplash'

Bryan to himself: I kind of miss drumming.

This review is about Damien Chazelle’s Whiplash, but before that, two sentences from the novel Percival Everett by Virgil Russell by Percival Everett:

That I then, you then, I now, could imagine such hell was hell enough. (213)

I could be writing you could be writing me could be writing you. (216).

I mention these lines from Everett’s very postmodernist text because this blurring of the lines between subject and object, between creator and created, between teacher and student, is at the heart of Chazelle’s film. And yet, Whiplash arrives at this hyphen without the appearance of either gimmick or contrivance, which is what separates it from both Inarritu’s Birdman and Linklater’s Boyhood.

Not only have Oscar ballots been cast but they have been announced. This conversation is old. Birdman won. And fans of every other film, but mostly Boyhood, have tweeted and blogged the ending of the world in accordance with such awful tragedy.

A reflection on Linklater's 'Boyhood'

If anything Richard Linklater’s Boyhood is relatable for its commitment to story rather than plot. In fact, this commitment to Walter Benjamin’s idea of the story and the everyday is what drives every aspect of Linklater’s project. However, I do wish I’d seen the film before it was wrapped in paper expectations and ribbons of hype. In fact, I wish I could have seen it before knowing that the character Mason and the actor Ellar Coltrane, who played him, were aging simultaneously. It wouldn’t have taken long to discover such moments. The film’s soundtrack, which is more of a playlist, acts as a cue for these moments in aging. And that’s what this film is, moments, followed by moments waiting for something to happen, or not. This process does not render the film boring, but rather a realist impression of life. And, while this impression is in many ways uplifting, it is also somewhat troubling.