WHAT REALLY HAPPENED IN WHIPLASH

After finishing Whiplash, the viewer has just enjoyed the final scene: a dazzling, heart-pumping, sweat-inducing display of adrenaline and skill. The audience may be thinking that Andrew finally proved himself and became “one of the greats,” at last accomplishing the goal he wanted his whole life. While walking away from the theater, a smile of efficacious delight may spread across the viewer’s face, a sign of happiness and completion. However, I believe that the ending to this 2014 film has a much darker meaning.

It’s the night of the jazz competition; Fletcher has convinced Neyman to play one last time for his band. For the entirety of the movie leading up to this scene, Fletcher has been a screaming, insulting, raging tormentor who has pushed Andrew to the limit — blood, sweat, and tears. He has made sure every waking moment for his student is a living hell, a swirl of anger and insanity. Now that he has finally been booted from Shaffer and is forced to teach a less-talented band, he recruits Andrew and we get a glimpse of how he treats his new students. For the first time ever in the entire movie, Terrence Fletcher seems to be an inspirational, motivational role model who says “Have some fun” instead of “Not quite my tempo.” He acts like a dog on a leash, restrained to a point of generosity that seems highly unusual for his character. We think: maybe this could be the new Fletcher, the one who has learned the error of his ways and will never overload his students. As Andrew walks on stage and the lights fade on, the musicians take their places and the show begins.

Right off the bat, Fletcher reveals his true colors. He sabotages Andrew’s performance, playing a piece he doesn’t have the music to, resulting in a mediocre presentation. He trudges off stage in embarrassment and failure, embracing his father and facing the fact that he didn’t earn his part. He could have walked out the door right then and there, turning his back on his musical career. But no. He goes back on stage, driven by his longing to please Fletcher. He sits down, and as soon as Terrence starts to speak, Andrew immediately takes the power from the instructor and begins a solo. This is what could throw the audience off, as it implies that Andrew, in an act of rebellion, is showing his skill and securing his place as a great musician. However, this impromptu decision is not actually defiance, but rather a stunt that aims for the approval of Fletcher.

Ever since Neyman started training with his intense teacher, his whole life has been flipped upside down. Drumming took over his life — he had no time for a girlfriend, a family, friends, any type of social life or any other engagements in general. He had tunnel vision, and his only focus was for the praise of Fletcher. Between every bandage applied to his countless sores and blisters, after every exhausting night of non-stop playing, he was searching desperately for the acknowledgement of his instructor. Searching so hard, in fact, that the “line” Andrew later brings up in the dinner conversation was completely ignored and all physical, mental, and social boundaries were broken down. He was turned into a lifeless drone, but now that he has gotten space from Fletcher and ended his musical career, he has escaped the wrath of his teacher. When Andrew walks off stage in shame at the end, he could have abandoned his Fletcher-pleasing needs completely, and his problems would have been over. However, it is his foolish and instinctive idea that he must go back on stage to prove himself; after all, that is all he’s been wanting for the entire film.

The viewer might be thinking that Andrew has redeemed himself, interrupting Fletcher, starting a marvelous solo and instructing his own orchestra, disobeying his teacher’s demands and breaking free of Fletcher’s control. This is not the case, though. He really is still trying to impress Fletcher, showing him that he is competent and has the potential to be great. What at first is a rebellious act turns into a performance directed by Fletcher — he instructs Andrew through his whole “solo.” Terrence orders him to slow to a tap on the drums, and then pick up speed as Fletcher signals every move. He then takes his coat off in excitement and, watching his student play, he then has complete control.

The beat finally reaches its climax, then abruptly ceases at Fletcher’s hand gesture. We cut to an extreme close-up of both their faces, watching their true feelings unfold. The audience, like Andrew, waits for some sign of emotion in Fletcher. Andrew is anxious, staring into his instructor’s eyes and longing for some kind of signal. At last, Fletcher gives Neyman a smile, but this is not a grin of mutual respect, but rather joy that he has finally found his very own Charlie Parker. The dinner table conversation Fletcher has with Andrew is very essential to the viewer’s understanding of the final scene — while Fletcher and Andrew chat, Fletcher reveals that he always wanted to find his Charlie Parker: a trophy-student, a crowning achievement of training. He never truly found one, but he says that at least it matters that he tried. Now, on the jazz festival stage, Fletcher realizes that Andrew was that musical talent the whole time, but it took the student’s undivided loyalty for him to become aware of this. He gives the smile not because he is happy and proud for Andrew, but because he is happy for himself; he now “owns” Neyman and has a student willing to go over the “line” for him in order to become great.

Andrew smiles back, overcome with joy that he has earned Fletcher’s praise and acknowledgement, for now his one goal is complete. The “cheerful and inspirational” ending is really just a scene that epitomizes the dynamics of Andrew and Fletcher’s relationship — a dangerous game of harmful and over-the-top performances in hopes of recognition. To top it off, Fletcher then silently gives the signal for the whole orchestra to start, and we are blasted with a brassy, celebratory sound of achievement. We zoom in on Andrew, sweat dripping and blood trickling, using all his effort to impress Fletcher. He clashes the symbols and we cut to black, and some might feel an inspirational sense of joy, excitement, and triumph. However, the end is actually very unfortunate, since Andrew has finally given in to Fletcher’s wrath again, becoming his property and again focusing only on his teacher’s praise. 

We end on a note of eerie remorse, and are reminded that Fletcher always was a villain, masking his true intentions through a delightful smile. Andrew has in fact completed his goal, but this is certainly not a happy ending, since his goal all along was to strive for greatness and, through this, make all sacrifices to do that. Fletcher has completed his goal too, finding his Charlie Parker and making him his property. Both characters reach a point where they feel good about themselves, but the audience is left with a despairing emotion, and we are unsure of our main character’s fate. But through Andrew’s actions to please Fletcher, we almost already know: a dark path lies in front of him. As the end credits flash by, we are sure that there is no escape — Andrew is trapped forever in his endless loop of hard work and pain. Fletcher, the manipulating, ill-tempered antagonist, has ensnared our protagonist and, even after Andrew’s attempts at breaking free, has cemented the fact that his student will always be focused on the one thing that drives him: Fletcher’s praise. But as we know from the dinner table scene, Fletcher believes that the two most dangerous words in the English language are “Good job,” and with that, we are ensured that the day Fletcher expresses his admiration will never come.