I hate Whiplash

Rating: 1/10 (4 November 2015)

Note that Erskine lauds equal measures of love and enthusiasm, discipline and toughness. Innumerable cultural think pieces over the last decade have rightly criticized the millennial-parental mindset of "everybody gets a trophy." And Simmons' Terence Fletcher deftly skewers the kind of thinking that leads only to universal mediocrity: "There are no two words in the English language more harmful than 'good job.'"
In the end, though, Fletcher/Simmons produces a drum machine, not a musician, an artist, or a better human being. Virtuosity and technical excellence devoid of personality and self-expression—that ineffable quality we call "soul"—is meaningless. And because of that, Whiplash, a 106-minute look at the act of making music, ultimately is one of the most anti-music, anti-art films I've ever seen. So no, "hate" is not too strong a word.