Miles Teller is a first-year student at a prestigious music college. He doesn't really have friends or know how to interact with people. But he doesn't care about things like friends. He's driven and ambitious, and the only thing he truly cares about is being one of the great jazz drummer. About being famous. Sacrificing everything else is worth it.
J.K. Simmons is an abusive, emotionally manipulative conductor. He doesn't care who he hurts or how, because everyone who cracks was never worth his time anyway. He's looking for a diamond and he will put massive pressure on every lump of coal he finds until he gets one.
Miles Teller and J.K. Simmons are miserable, unlikeable people who find their equals in each other. Miles Teller is a jazz drummer who will play until he bleeds, then keep playing. J.K. Simmons will break down everyone to see who won't give up despite the damage. Together they could create the best jazz drummer the world has ever known. They are destructive, mad, and brilliant, and it is impossible to look away from them. In a way, it's a similar love story to the one in Gone Girl. They are better with each other than alone, even if they will claw each other apart.
So I'm not a jazz fan. Maybe I'm not the right audience for this movie. Because I spent an incredible amount of time wondering WHY so much blood, sweat, and tears were being poured into a dying art. It felt like it was the same stakes as a movie about trying to become/make THE BEST SHEEP SHEARER. Yes, people still shear sheep. But you're not going to become famous forever for doing it. If you're worried about your legacy, if your entire drive is to have the world remember your name, why jazz drumming? I don't care how hard Miles Teller works or how far he's pushed because he's never going to be the next Charlie Parker because it's not the 1950s.
Grade: A-
Final Verdict: Intense (really, I can't think of another word for it) acting and an intense film. It's completely messed up but as sickly fascinating as a car wreck to watch.
If You Like This, Watch: Notes on a Scandal, Birdman, Black Swan, Foxcatcher, Gone Girl, Full Metal Jacket
I don't usually do this, but I'm going to throw in some character-explaining quotes. Because the dialogue in this film says exactly what you need to know to understand these guys.
Uncle: You got any friends, Andy?
Miles Teller: No.
Uncle: Oh, why's that?
Miles Teller: I don't know, I just never really saw the use.
Uncle: Well, who are you going to play with otherwise? Lennon and
McCartney, they were school buddies, am I right?
Miles Teller: Charlie Parker didn't know anybody 'til Jo Jones threw a cymbal
at his head.
Uncle: So that's your idea of success, huh?
Miles Teller: I think being the greatest musician of the 20th century is
anybody's idea of success.
Father: Dying broke and drunk and full of heroin at the age of 34 is not
exactly my idea of success.
Miles Teller: I'd rather die drunk, broke at 34 and have people at a dinner
table talk about me than live to be rich and sober at 90 and nobody remembered
who I was.
Uncle: Ah, but your friends will remember you, that's the point.
Miles Teller: None of us were friends with Charlie Parker. That's the
point.
Uncle: Travis and Dustin? They have plenty of friends and plenty
of purpose.
Miles Teller: I'm sure they'll make great school board presidents someday.
Jock Cousin: Oh, that's what this is all about? You think you're better than
us?
Miles Teller: You catch on quick. Are you in Model UN?
****
J.K. Simmons: I was there to push people beyond what's expected of
them. I believe that's an absolute necessity.
****
J.K. Simmons: I don't think people understood what it was I was
doing at Shaffer. I wasn't there to conduct. Any fucking moron can wave his
arms and keep people in tempo. I was there to push people beyond what's
expected of them. I believe that is... an absolute necessity. Otherwise, we're
depriving the world of the next Louis Armstrong. The next Charlie Parker. I
told you about how Charlie Parker became Charlie Parker, right?
Miles Teller: Jo Jones threw a cymbal at his head.
J.K. Simmons: Exactly. Parker's a young kid, pretty good on the
sax. Gets up to play at a cutting session, and he fucks it up. And Jones nearly
decapitates him for it. And he's laughed off-stage. Cries himself to sleep that
night, but the next morning, what does he do? He practices. And he practices
and he practices with one goal in mind, never to be laughed at again. And a
year later, he goes back to the Reno and he steps up on that stage, and plays
the best motherfucking solo the world has ever heard. So imagine if Jones had
just said: "Well, that's okay, Charlie. That was all right. Good job.
"And then Charlie thinks to himself, "Well, shit, I did do a pretty
good job." End of story. No Bird. That, to me, is an absolute tragedy. But
that's just what the world wants now. People wonder why jazz is dying.
****
Miles Teller: But is there a line? You know, maybe you go too far, and you
discourage the next Charlie Parker from ever becoming Charlie Parker?
J.K. Simmons: No, man, no. Because the next Charlie Parker would
never be discouraged.
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