Oh there is definitely a racist caricature of a Japanese man in this (although by Old Hollywood standards, it's almost benevolent) but it's the only blemish on an otherwise wildly exuberant classic that wears its campy heart on one's extravagant, voluminous sleeves.
A thrilling monument to the punishing demands of greatness, Whiplash packs a walloping reminder of how beautifully screen and sound can come together when the medium is dexterously used. A gloriously bold soundtrack winds itself tightly throughout the movie, the impact of which is only heightened by some brilliantly sharp and nimble editing.
There were certain elements of Whiplash that I didn't like (including, minor spoilers ahead, only the second most contrived car-crash in a Miles Teller movie) but they're…
So here's the thing. One third of this movie is absolutely perfect. There's the incongruously quality cast, filled with the likes of Cranston, Binoche (of all people!), Watanabe, Strathairn and Hawkins, who round out a band of familiar but welcome old tropes - the paranoid engineer, the concerned scientists, the troubled military man.
Then there's the perfect balance of thrilling disaster porn and deep historical foreboding (perfectly summed up in the movie's great credit sequence), which lend the proceedings their…