By Dan Cohen, our Santa Monica Reporter
“Birdman,” the movie I discussed last time, plays like one uninterrupted take studded with rapid fire dialogue that seems to burst spontaneously from its character’s guts. This season’s other compelling drama on the artistic life, “Whiplash,” is realized in a completely opposing style. With its propulsive editing and clipped dialogue, “Whiplash is as compact and minimal as “Birdman” is expansive.
Writer Damien Chazelle’s first outing as a director is the latest in a tradition of student/mentor movies that date back to the early talkies. You’ve seen it a dozen times: an established master begrudgingly takes on a student who initially appears unable or unwilling to conform to the master’s standards. As the student struggles to make the grade the audience wonders first, if he’ll make it, then whether the mentor’s methodology is a function of wisdom or some darker motivation. In “Whiplash,” the master and student are at such odds that their relationship feels more like “An Officer and a Gentleman,” than “The Paper Chase.” Some episodes, especially near the end, approach the absurd. Still, moment to moment “Whiplash” is utterly absorbing.
Miles Teller, who broke out with a knowing and subtle performance as a teenaged alcoholic in “The Spectacular Now,” is “Andrew,” a talented drummer beginning his first term in in a prestigious conservatory that’s all but identified as Julliard. Early on he’s selected by the school’s most demanding band leader to replace another musician who fails to make the grade. “Fletcher,” is the ubiquitous character actor J.K. Simmons, familiar from TV, (“Law and Order,” “Growing Up Fisher,”) and movies like “Juno,” where he played the father to perfection. This time out, Simmons’ who is often hired to realize genial and perplexed authority figures, has been cast against type, which makes his frequent outbursts all the more provocative.
Fletcher recalls the legendary band leader and virtuoso percussionist, Buddy Rich. Rich was known for tantrums and summary firings, but Fletcher goes way beyond that. He’s given to deception, humiliation and physical abuse, all under the pretense of professionalism. Halfway through he turns drumming into a blood sport.
We’re never sure if what fuel Fletcher’s rage; Andrew’s ambition, slavish obedience, or something about his playing, but the boy’s mere presence sets him off. There are hints about past students but little that’s specific to Andrew. Nor are we sure why Andrew continues to take the abuse, other than his stated ambition. There are several scenes of warmth between Andrew and his father, nicely by Paul Reiser. A love interest is abandoned as quickly as it develops. But most of the background info remains perfunctory.
Director Chazelle matches the script’s intensity with fleet direction and lightning-like edits. Classic jazz charts and Justin Hurwitz’ original score fill the track with mesmerizing sound The images have a polished look. The cutting, by Tom Cross, who also edited the short on which the full length movie is based, holds to a pace that keeps the movie on track even when it veers into the sort of antics that seem unthinkable.
Right from the start there has been talk of award nominations for Simmons. He’s been overlooked for far too long, but Teller, in what is arguably the more complex role, holds his own and shows great promise for the future. This is one of the more entertaining films of the year.
Wild
Academy Award winner Reese Witherspoon has lately gone out of her way to take more challenging roles than the industry typically offers women in their mid-30s. To that end, she has opted to work on ambitious projects with indie directors like Canada’s Atom Egoyan, (“Devil’s Knot,”) and South African born Gavin Hood, (“Rendition.”) Results have been uneven as some of her projects have received mixed reviews and modest returns at the box office. But she stood out in the terrific coming of age drama “Mud” in 2012, and, earlier this year, scored a critical success with “The Good Lie.”
Now Witherspoon has allied with Jean Marc Vallee, the perceptive director of “Dallas Buyer’s Club,” and the acclaimed novelist and screenwriter Nick Hornby. The result is “Wild,” a richly satisfying adaptation of Cheryl Strayed’s memoir of a walk of self- discovery the author took through a thousand miles of inhospitable deserts and forests. Witherspoon is front and center in almost every scene, and she’s a pleasure throughout.
The direction wobbles in the early stretches. The first few scenes are marred by fast cuts that seem unrelated to Cheryl’s first few days on the road. I suppose that the quick shots of sex and drugs are meant to heighten tension but they actually distract from the flow of the narrative. But soon the movie settles into a comfortable rhythm where longer and better detailed flashbacks coherently establish Cheryl’s background and the reason she takes the challenge. As it moves forward the story is told on two tracks that are designed to feed one another. For the most part the flashback deals with the relationship between Cheryl and her mother. Fine, that’s been done before and the strategy works here. But the movies’ real strength is in the trek itself and Witherspoon’s fidelity to the character’s strengths and weaknesses.
“Wild” isn’t so much a drama of conflict as it is of personal discovery. The story takes place almost twenty years ago, when cell phones weren’t ubiquitous and trekkers had no choice but to rely on way stations, strangers, and fellow travelers. What it does so well is make special Cheryl’s ordinary interactions along the way special. Witherspoon’s willingness to strip herself of glamour and to face the character’s troubled background in truth alone makes it special.
