Response to Music Film Villain Remains Curiously Absent in Sports

Hard to believe, but a film about a jazz student and his over-the-top professor may have been the most audacious and brutal film of 2014. In Whiplash, filmmaker Damien Chazelle provokes repulsion from his audience by way of an abusive instructor and the children he tortures toward greatness. Yet the question it ultimately raised for me, a musician who was also a high school athlete, was why behavior that is held in contempt nearly everywhere else, is viewed as acceptable in our society when it is associated with sport.

Whiplash was the most gripping, in-your-face, unapologetic film I’ve seen in a long time. Miles Teller (Divergent, The Spectacular Now) and J. K. Simmons (Oz, The Closer) give a daring portrayal of a highly dysfunctional student/teacher relationship in a groundbreaking way.

Teller plays Andrew, a gifted and sometimes arrogant jazz drummer at a prestigious fictional music college. One day, he is practicing the drums when he attracts the attention of Mr. Fletcher (Simmons). Without giving too much away, this brief encounter will set the tone for a film that will find you laughing and frightened during some of the same scenes.

As the conductor, Fletcher commands respect. When he enters the rehearsal room, the students’ jumbled and frivolous sounds from their wind instruments have now been silenced as they stand at attention for their commander-in-chief. Their looks of ease are replaced by anxiety as they bow their heads and look away from the man that they would normally revere rather than fear.

Fletcher has very little tolerance for imperfection; if it’s not perfect you will be embarrassed, insulted, and replaced immediately in front of the entire class. His tactics are not without physical and mental anguish (he even throws a chair at Andrew). He has zero sympathy for those who do not meet his standards. Andrew’s once secure confidence is obliterated after his first criticism from Fletcher.

During the film’s climax, you see a desperate Andrew trying so hard to please Fletcher that he will endure anything (and everything) just to gratify his teacher. Chazelle’s film does an excellent job of showing a student’s breakdown in trying to live up to the impossible expectations of his teacher.

Chazelle, who also wrote the script, calls the film ”personal“ and was hesitant to make it. He too was once a talented jazz drummer in his high school jazz band in Princeton, N.J., while also having to endure the leadership of an abusive instructor. Chazelle leaves no controversial scenes on the cutting room floor - it’s all out there for everyone to see, and this seems a good thing in a world where the high-end instruction of children and teens is becoming a more prevalent part of our society.

As a classically-trained violinist who has played under several conductors, I am happy to say I have never been mentally or physically abused by any of them. But while I found Fletcher’s methods repulsive, this film does present a very important topic that deserves discussion: why is this type of behavior so often seen as acceptable in sports if it’s taboo in other areas of performance? Why are we appalled by this teacher’s behavior and not by a football or basketball coach when there is similar and sometimes even worse behavior? Perhaps even more importantly, what impact does this have in how people who grow up in sports, as opposed to the arts, develop into adults, parents, bosses and co-workers?

I’m as guilty as the rest of the audience who sat in the theater and scorned this conductor’s unconventional methods of teaching without asking that question. It wasn’t until after the film that I realized that I had actually been treated in a similar manner by someone in leadership. It wasn’t my orchestra teacher, but my high school basketball coach.

In one game, when I fouled someone just minutes before the final buzzer, I caught a wrath not unlike Fletcher’s normal routine. I vividly remember my coach screaming at me in front of everyone in attendance. I was mortified. This happened 10 years ago, and I still think about this experience every now and then. Granted, I had made a strategic error in the game, but something about that event stayed with me and took the fun out of playing. I left a sport I once loved after that season.

Why is this so often considered an acceptable way of dealing with a child, so long as it applies to playing a game? Throughout my playing years, I’ve witnessed high school coaches yelling to students at the top of their lungs while the parents of the students watched and even supported the coach’s behavior. You may say that the coaches are just ”passionate about the sport“ or they ”care about the student“ but the same can be said in other areas of performance or competition from the arts to a spelling bee.

How do these experiences shape and prepare these young individuals for the real world? Have we ever considered what will be the difference in the adult who was brought up in hyper-competitive sports with this sort of norm? In recent news, we hear about athletes in trouble with the law for domestic violence and even murder. Does the aggression that they endure during games and weekly practices tend to be so great that they take their frustrations home with them and find such negative outlets for the pent up hostilities that result? I’m not a psychologist, but it makes you wonder why violent outbursts seem so much more commonplace among those who endure them regularly in their field of work.

I realize that every coach, conductor or teacher has their methods, but we must also consider the repercussions that such behavior can have on the student, especially outside the arena. You might call me soft, or argue that being nice won’t get the job done in certain mediums. I actually agree with some of Fletcher’s rationales. I understood where he was coming from and his ”There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job“ theory. I do see the harm in the ”let’s give them a pat on the back anyhow,“ and ”we’re all winners“ culture that can breed entitlement and temper drive, but how does belittling and embarrassing students (or athletes) help them?

No matter what you take from the movie, Whiplash is a thought-provoking film with a lot of bite. The actors are superb and the content is well written. It’s relevant on many levels and not inaccessible to those who haven’t studied music. Do yourself a favor and watch what people are deeming the best film of 2014, then take some time to reflect on the interesting questions it asks of our society.