[Chuck Butler]

As there has been a good deal of buzz about this film, I thought some HBLers might be interested in the perspective of a musician with nearly forty years of professional experience. (Spoiler alert: those who have not seen the film may want to do so before reading further.)

Let me begin by expressing my general agreement with Dr. Peikoff’s comments about the film (podcast episodes 348 & 349). As an Objectivist, I certainly appreciate the film’s depiction of a young man’s struggle to overcome obstacles as he strives to achieve excellence in his chosen profession. Dr. Peikoff’s enthusiasm for the film is (as he admits) heightened by his interest in jazz piano, and by nature of the relationship he enjoyed with Ayn Rand, both of which give the film’s setting and themes special relevance for him. In presenting the following critical remarks I do not mean to diminish his positive evaluation of the film, but rather to balance it by sharing my perspective as someone who has had the specific kinds of experiences depicted in the film. 

A number of people have asked me to comment on the accuracy of the musical aspects of the film, so let me address that first. As a young pianist I had the experience of auditioning and being selected for top jazz ensembles in my high school and state, and later for those at the Berklee College of Music in Boston, and eventually for similar professional ensembles, so I have rehearsed with, performed with, written for, and occasionally led precisely the kind of ensemble depicted in the film, and interacted with a wide variety of band directors. The film does effectively convey the general flavor of this type of musical experience. At the higher levels, musicians are indeed expected to come to rehearsals thoroughly prepared, band directors demand competence and professionalism from their players, rehearsals are typically focused and often intense due to limited time, and players understand that they must perform well if they wish to keep their positions. That being said, the film is not always accurate in its use of music terminology, or in its portrayal of how rehearsals are run, the way a school of music operates, and the ways in which musicians go about developing their skills.

For example, I have not met a single drummer (including greats such as Bernard Purdie, Gary Chaffee, and Tommy Campbell) who can launch into a groove at a precise tempo marking on command. Nor have I met any conductor who could determine whether a drummer was playing at 215 or 216 beats per minute. Nor are such skills necessary. The metronome marking at the top of a chart is a reference that can be interpreted within a range. Drummers are musicians, not metronomes, and digitally accurate time is not necessarily desirable: to feel right, music often needs to “breathe” a bit tempo-wise. The film’s emphasis on playing fast is also misleading. While it is true that jazz drummers are sometimes required to play at fast tempi, “feel” (meaning the ability to “swing” and play in a tasteful, idiomatically appropriate manner) is far more difficult to develop. In any case, learning to play fast is accomplished by learning to relax, not by grimacing and beating one’s hands to a pulp (drummers may develop blisters after long hours of practicing and/or performing, though not normally of the severity depicted in the film). I suspect that the filmmakers chose to focus on the speed issue because it was an easy way to dramatize a musical challenge that general audiences could appreciate.

And indeed, because the film is a drama, not a documentary, I think any criticisms of the musical details of the film are more or less irrelevant. My sense is that the filmmaker did his best to be authentic in conveying musical ideas and experiences to viewers who may have no background in music (let alone big band jazz). I was not distracted by any of the “poetic license” that was taken, and indeed am impressed at how effectively the film conveys a world that I know very well to those with little or no frame of reference. So rather than catalogue every nitpicky disagreement I might have with the film’s use of terminology or portrayal of conducting and rehearsal techniques, let me turn to the three major concerns I have about it.

1. As a music educator, I reject the notion that one can beat a musician into greatness. Let me be clear: I had teachers that were quite hard on me as a young player, and became a better player for their tutelage. But even the teacher who was toughest on me set achievable goals and praised me when these were accomplished. An occasional “good job” or approving glance encouraged me by confirming that I had achieved a goal. Over time, this established a pattern of success that gave me confidence in my ability to succeed. Training a musician is not like training a prize fighter. Most musicians are highly sensitive and thus vulnerable. Good teachers know when to challenge their students and when to nurture and mentor them. If there is a major flaw in the film it is that the outrageous behavior of the teacher is so far beyond the pale that the story becomes complete fantasy: as one colleague of mine pointed out, that teacher wouldn’t last a single semester at any accredited school of music. Dr. Peikoff is correct that his methods are irrational and totally unprofessional.

2. I further reject the notion that the depicted teacher’s extreme measures have any likelihood of producing the next “Charlie Parker.” While I join Dr. Peikoff in admiring a teacher’s desire to bring out the best in his students, rational teachers recognize that the emergence of a true innovator like Charlie Parker requires a confluence of events and circumstances that no amount of teaching or practice can bring about. Parker was an exceptional player who came along at a time when the modalities of traditional swing music had been fully explored and a new generation of players (including such luminaries as Dizzy Gillespie and Bud Powell) were actively searching for ways to expand their musical vocabulary. Had Parker been born ten years earlier he would likely have gone down in history as another of the many great alto players in the big bands of his day, rather than as the legendary bebop innovator he became.

But let’s assume that the “Charlie Parker” reference was intended only to indicate a great player, as opposed to a genuine innovator. Here the example of the Marsalis brothers may be of interest. All were raised to be professional musicians and received top notch training from some of the greatest players and educators in jazz. Of the four brothers, Wynton has perhaps come closest to being a true innovator on his instrument (trumpet), though he has certainly not transformed jazz in the way Parker and his cohorts did. His brother Branford was a senior at Berklee when I entered as a freshman. Except when he had class, Branford was camped out in a practice room every day from 10am until 5pm. I never saw anyone practice so much or so hard, and he followed this grueling routine by performing most nights at local jazz clubs. But although he become a fine player and has had a successful career as a saxophonist, few would rank him among the all time greats, let alone regard him as an innovator. Then there is their younger brother Delfeayo, who was in my class at Berklee. Delfeayo practiced hard as well, but he was never the player that either of his brothers were, nor even among the better trombonists in our class, and eventually turned his attention to producing. My point is that there is no proven method for turning out great jazz musicians, let alone innovators like Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington, Miles Davis, etc. The most a music teacher can do is instruct, inspire, challenge, and support his students to the best of his or her ability. Does anyone imagine that the efforts of any teacher could produce an Ayn Rand if the potential for genius was not already present in the student?

3. Finally, I strenuously reject the film’s implication that achieving excellence requires or justifies denying oneself other values. The notion that the pursuit of this young man’s goals leaves no place for a girlfriend, or that he could not be in a relationship with a young woman who has yet to discover her own passion in life is, in my view, utterly misguided. Charlie Parker had girlfriends, as did Branford Marsalis, as did I. Most of the musicians I’ve known who were obsessed with music to the exclusion of all else turned out to be shallow, unhappy people, and technically adept but artistically uninspiring players. A musician needs a wide range of life experiences because these are what give him a unique voice, give his playing “soul.” Similarly, the notion that the pursuit of this young man’s ambitions required that he risk his health (indeed his life) is the height of irrationality. No gig is worth getting killed over, any band director who would drive his students to believe otherwise is reprehensible, and any student who is so persuaded belongs in therapy.

For those reasons I found the film extremely difficult to watch. I left the theater stunned by a mass of conflicting emotions: admiration of the student’s determination and elation at his ultimate achievement on the one hand; resentment of the teacher’s treatment of the student musicians and frustration at the points mentioned above on the other. Obviously the film hit close to home for me (as it did for Dr. Peikoff), so I may not be the best judge of the effect it will have on someone who has not spent a lifetime in music. I can imagine that such a person might be able to focus on the student’s journey and ultimate success and not be as overwhelmed as I was by the factors discussed above–though I should mention that my wife (who knows little about music but works in elementary education) found the teacher’s behavior so appalling that it detracted from her enjoyment of the film, despite her satisfaction at the student’s ultimate success.

In the end, as much as I admired the filmmaking, acting performances, soundtrack, and certain aspects of the storyline, “Whiplash” is not a film I would feel comfortable recommending to young musicians. Better that they should watch The Benny Goodman Story or The Glenn Miller Story–or perhaps the documentary Chops (2007), in which Wynton Marsalis puts promising high school jazz musicians through the paces in a challenging yet supportive fashion that is, in my opinion, a far better example of what should, and does, go on in jazz education.

[Harry Mullin]

Thanks Chuck! 
And fascinating insights into the musical world, of which I know little. 

My wife too had the reaction you described and could not even watch the ending. I would caution anyone planning to see the movie on this aspect of the film.

[TonyWhite]

Thanks for that. Very, very interesting.

And indeed, because the film is a drama, not a documentary, I think any criticisms of the musical details of the film are more or less irrelevant.

Thank you. I confess that it is a pet peeve of mine that when a movie like this comes out, it tends gets intense criticism from experts in the particular field who don’t seem to understand the concepts “artistic license” and “drama”.

If there is a major flaw in the film it is that the outrageous behavior of the teacher is so far beyond the pale that the story becomes complete fantasy: as one colleague of mine pointed out, that teacher wouldn’t last a single semester at any accredited school of music.

I would say that outrageous behavior of the teacher is a major flaw in him, but not the film. I take exaggerated behavior to be the writer/directors way of making a point. Sort of like Dr. House and his horrible bedside manner.

The point of the film is that the young student, despite his passion, still needs to be pushed (which is loving father doesn’t understand), that he the teacher, despite his massive flaws and outrageous methods, was out to bring out the best in the student, when no one else around the student is even trying to do so.

I would say the unrealistic aspect of the teacher’s behavior may make the movie more metaphorical, and less journalistic accurate, but I do not find this a bad thing, and I wouldn’t label a the movie complete fantasy for that.

The notion that the pursuit of this young man’s goals leaves no place for a girlfriend [is] utterly misguided. … A musician needs a wide range of life experiences [to] give his playing “soul.” 

I agree, but I think that was a flaw of the young man. I don’t think the movie was saying that. I think that that scene serves to 1) show the boys passion, and 2) show that he doesn’t have all the answers and needs guidance, which he isn’t getting.

[RBadmin]

Thank you Chuck for the insights into the music world. I appreciate the details you have filled in.

I am in Tony’s camp regarding overall evaluation of the film. 

My main enjoyment (I’ve seen the film 7 times) focused on the ‘hero worship’ aspect of the film, in that Buddy Rich was the student’s first hero, then to a small degree, his father, then his teacher, who had the largest impact. 

I also empathized with the teacher in the sense that he was witnessing the spiraling death of his love (the way he describes Starbucks “jazz album” is hilarious but poignant) and he wanted to do whatever he could to reject mediocrity. Does he go overboard? Certainly, and this is discussed in the jazz club conversation between the two.

Also, as a ballet dancer for decades, I had a similar, Russian-trained teacher, whose abuse sent hordes of girls and young women storming out of class in tears. This effectively made me work harder, but I also thought to myself that likely none of those girls would end up on stage at Lincoln Center.

And finally, whatever you think about the film, you will not walk out of there yawning, which I think adds to its importance in an era when so many bad, predictable films today.

[Chuck Butler]

I’m sympathetic to all of your comments, gentlemen, though I think a case could be made either way on some of the points you raise where there may be reasonable questions of interpretation.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my reaction to the film. I believe Dr. Peikoff mentioned that he had seen it five times, and Robert mentions having seen it seven times–this is astonishing to me, as I could not imagine repeatedly subjecting myself to such an intense emotional experience. So why is my response so different from that of others who clearly share a philosophical orientation similar to my own? Today I was struck by a possible answer. As a teenager, I was accused and found guilty of a crime that I did not commit. Experiencing that injustice had a profound and lasting effect on me, and I suspect that the teacher’s unfair treatment of his students in the film touches a personal nerve that makes it difficult for me to keep focus on its positive themes. I’m no psychologist, but that’s my current theory.

I guess another issue for me is that I’ve always believed that making music should be fun. When I watch a movie like The Benny Goodman Story I see musicians taking obvious pleasure in making music, despite the obstacles they’ve had to overcome, and when that movie ends I feel inspired to make music myself. I did not feel that way after watching Whiplash. None of the musicians seem to be having any fun for most of the film–indeed, the teacher’s irrationality foments a sense of paranoia among the players that is hardly conducive to creativity–and I worry that young musicians who see the film, far from being inspired, may question whether to pursue their interest in music if this is the reality that awaits them.

[TonyWhite]

Chuck Butler writes:

I suspect that the teacher’s unfair treatment of his students in the film touches a personal nerve that makes it difficult for me to keep focus on its positive themes….

None of the musicians seem to be having any fun for most of the film

In my opinion, those are two very good reasons for not wanting to see the film again. I think that reaction is absolutely rational and objective.

I had an intense positive reaction to the movie, have seen it three times so far, and plan to go again at least once while it is still in theaters.

I thought that every Objectivist would have such a positive emotional experience, but now I see clearly that they don’t, and it makes sense to me that they don’t. Its an individual, personal thing.

For me, I identified with young musician so much, despite the fact that I was not a musician and had whole different set of problems at his age, that I could easily look past the negative aspects of the teacher.

To me, if someone is helping you with the core of your being that way, putting up with that teachers kind of verbal/emotional behavior is a medium price for an inestimable value.

 

Robert Begley writes:

Also, as a ballet dancer for decades, I had a similar, Russian-trained teacher

I kept thinking of ballet teachers when I saw the movie. It seems to be easy for a passionate teacher in the fine arts to have an overly tough, abrasive personality.

[Author]

Posts