Madness blurs with passion in ‘Whiplash’

“Whiplash,” the thrilling musical drama directed by Damien Chazelle, has become an unexpected hit in Korea, drawing in some 1.5 million moviegoers here as of early this month.

The movie, which is about tough music professor Terence Fletcher (B.K. Simmons) tormenting his student Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller) to bring out the best in him, received rave reviews at the Sundance Film Festival. It also won Academy Awards, including for Simmons as best supporting actor.

The positive reception in Korea for the film’s mise en scene seems to stem from many of the same elements of the film that appealed to U.S. audiences and critics.

The movie is explicit and cruel, and goes out of its way to break from the typical relationship between a caustic mentor and an overzealous student.

It has been made almost simplistic by its consistency ― there is no “Good Will Hunting”-style breakthrough when they come to truly care for each another, and no sacrifice or camaraderie that builds up over the course of the plot.

The result is a dynamic, unpredictable film that powers through 100 minutes to a breathless musical climax.

However, one aspect of the movie that caused a buzz among U.S. viewers had much less of an impact on its young Korean audience. 

In a conversation with U.S.-based Interview magazine, Chazelle recalled that in the early stages of the movie, nonmusicians who read the script were “horrified by the (teacher’s) behavior” while a jazz drummer at the Lincoln Center reacted with nonchalance.

Among Korean youth, the overall reaction was fatigue ― closer to nonchalance than to horror.

That may be because the drill-sergeant style of Fletcher’s training is familiar to students of all disciplines, beyond athletics and music.

“Fletcher’s ‘ends-justify-the-means’ approach was uncomfortable to watch,” said Lee Sang-hyuk, a 25-year-old who worked in media. “It reminded me of our high school education, and even more of military service.”

For many, the rough, authoritarian style of teaching is widely accepted in Korea, if not considered effective.

Especially in the fields of arts and sports, some can still find many teachers who abuse their students both emotionally and physically.

“The concern for critics like me is that the ‘Whiplash’-style portrayal of education could be misinterpreted by some as an affirmation of those Spartan methods,” culture critic Kim Hern-sik said.

That concern may have been realized for some moviegoers, who felt Andrew’s radical devotion to his drumming was something to be admired rather than feared or discouraged.

“The movie makes you understand that you must become truly mad about something if you want to make the world take notice,” wrote a blogger identified as maybe_lin in a review that received the most recommendations on Naver.

“If you want to be the best, you must escape being ordinary,” said fellow blogger dabang69.

“To escape being ordinary, you have to go crazy. Special people aren’t born, they’re made. When an ordinary person goes crazy, and breaks out of their ordinary shell, that is when they become special.”

For Koreans, constant, exhausting competition is a natural part of life; survival requires effort and going beyond the bounds of normalcy.

Most people cannot live this way, but for many, this passion is considered an ideal to which to aspire.

From the perspective of a culture that values excellence according to the magnitude of sacrifice required to obtain it, Neyman’s brilliance reaches the level of genius, hard-earned and all the better for it.

By Won Ho-jung (hjwon@heraldcorp.com)