Beat into submission

Whiplash (2014)dir Damian Chazelle

Throughout the history of art and culture, and indeed the history of anything, there is a very real and conscious acceptance of suffering.
Suffering will lead to salvation, to the promised land.
Suffering is the process one goes through to reach fulfillment.
Enlightenment. Satisfaction. Education.
A theory that an element of luck can shine down on the righteous, but ultimately it is the tears shed and blood spilled that are a more accurate barometer of the likelihood of success.
But what happens when that suffering overtakes and suffocates life?
That is the essence of Whiplash.
A title of deep significance through the film, it is the song that is exhaustively repeated by the players in a Shaffer studio orchestra. It is the painful effect often suffered through the trauma of a car accident. It is also ominously derived from the swift movement of a piece of rope, used to exert control over a subject, man or beast. To wield the lash.
Here we have the relationship between two individuals, Andrew, a young man desperate to make the grade as a jazz drummer, and Fletcher, the instructor who holds so much more than a baton in his hands.
Everyone else is secondary in the focus. Andrew's father, a brief relationship with a girl, the other musicians and wider family are all peripheral.
From the first beat to the last in this exceptionally delivered story, it is all about Andrew and Fletcher.
The control that is exerted, the physical contortions that must be pushed through, the psychological examination that is constantly challenging and striking.
The music is incredible, and the performances authentic.
But the examination of what goes into greatness is a wonderful antidote to the times of instant success from reality television.
It also raises an immense question, posed by Fletcher who is exceptionally formed by JK Simmons.
How far is it acceptable to push someone?
For what many would view as abuse, both physical and emotional, another person might see them as a means to an end.
Examples are tossed out like notes in a solo; Charlie Parker, Louis Armstrong. These great figures would not exist but for punishing, regimented and extreme teaching that challenged them to be better than everyone.
It brought to mind the experiences of Michael Jackson when he talked about his father in later years, the abuse he subjected him to.
But you sense in the eyes of Andrew that he never resents the torture he is put through. He relishes it. He wants to rise to the top, and if it doesn't kill him he will make it.
For why deprive the world a work of art, because a few people might fall by the wayside on the way there?
I imagine there are two groups of people who will walk away from this film.
Those who agree with Fletcher, grind those many rocks of coal and one diamond will appear for the world to enjoy, and to hell with the rest.
The other will come away shocked, appalled and feel that were it them, or people they care about, they would flinch at such punishment.
I won't say which category I fall into.
That is the joy of watching this film, you are shown, not told.
You are given a document to view and make your own mind up.
There is no resolution, beautiful music but neither an end point of traumatic failure or defiant success.
It could still go either way for both Andrew and Fletcher when the screen goes black.
But getting there gives you more than enough to draw a conclusion, and decide if you can stomach pain and suffering. Even if it doesn't lead to a pot of gold.
And even if you have no view either way. You can't help but love the performances.

Coming down the mountain

Calvary (2014)
dir John Michael McDonagh 

There is something in the calm and serene environment that doesn't prepare you for the climax of Calvary.
The tranquil foothills of Ireland and trundling shorelines that break silently and respectfully.
The slow and purposeful movement of frame and character marches to a consistent, but lighter pace.
The introduction of a daughter more used to the lifestyle of London only serves to illustrate the importance of speed.
Slowing down.
Speeding up.
Going too fast.
Going too slow.
Life can be judged by the direction we are going, and how quickly we are going to get there.
The confessional scene that opens this film plots a course that will define the central character, played with growing resignation and despair by the excellent Brendan Gleeson.
The end has been declared, the priest is to be killed a week on Sunday.
From that point we are on a journey, an examination of the mind of someone who has to a certain extend been condemned.
Condemned not for his sins, but for the sins of others.
The abuse of the priesthood is brought to light graphically, but then effectively cast into the shadow.
It's an effective device to examine the thinking of an audience without explicitly addressing the issue for more than a fleeting glance.
There is a sense of injustice that a good priest is to be condemned for the crimes of his fraternity. The seemingly absurd argument that this is more judicial is voiced, and then left to hold or evaporate in the ether.
The fact that this man had a child and was married earlier in life only serves to mark his difference to those donning the hassock for a lifetime. Those whose repressed sexuality brought about untold suffering. Those who are seen as deserving of punishment. Those we do not meet here.
Throughout the course of the journey we must ask, do we sympathise with Gleeson's forgiving and quietly shackled existence?
Do we have sympathy for the victim of abuse who has decided to exact his crooked form of equity?
If we don't, why not then?
How by the shocking conclusion can we feel pure judgement on the perpetrator of the final act?
It is less an examination of the crimes of the Catholic Church, and more a lesson in crime and punishment. A modern adaptation of The Merchant of Venice.
We have an innocent man blamed, and punished for the sins of another.
The concept of an eye for an eye is skewered, dissected and we seemingly cannot accept that a good man is condemned by the company he keeps.
The film's title references the place that Jesus was crucified.
The ground on which the Christian faith was born.
Bob Dylan once asked the question in a song whether 'Judas Iscariot had God on his side'.
One wonders the same in this conclusion.
Where in this story is the presence of God. And who is He rooting for?