While this is certainly an interesting concept, "Whiplash" presents a narrative much more along the lines of "Fletcher yells at Neiman, Neiman tries harder," repeated ad infinitum before inevitably culminating into a rather cliche "student becomes the master" finale. In his quest for jazz stardom, the "jumbo shrimp" of the music world Neiman falls down a rabbit hole of obsession, playing until his hands pour blood and ostracizing himself from everyone he loves. What follows is a plot that drags incessantly, rolling in threads of redundancy and, though only a meager 106 minutes, leaves the watcher begging for a swift end halfway through. "Whiplash follows" Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller), a freshman at the prestigious Shaffer Conservatory, as he joins the studio band of the enigmatic Terence Fletcher (J.K. However, if the plot of "Whiplash" is any indication, the road less traveled is one ripe with potholes, speed-bumps and, in fact, isn't a road at all, but rather an infinite circuit. I chose the former, but perhaps its with the idea of the road less traveled still in mind that I was initially drawn to "Whiplash," the story of a jazz drummer's manic quest toward becoming one of the greats.
Either I could follow my passion toward writing and politics and pursue a degree in journalism, or I could say "fuck it" to rationality and job security and pursue a career as a jazz guitarist. He called the movie "a phenomenally successful two-man war against narrative clarity and continuity" and went so far as to call movies in general "the storytelling black hole into which we all seem to have fallen.At one point in time, I found myself at a crossroads in life. Harrison Ford was depressing, the racial politics were appalling and Olivia Wilde's performance is really an insult, but the most condemning reviews were written out of a sense of affront, as Christopher Orr of The Atlantic's was. (That line usually arrives in the form of a fart.)" And even if there is no one in the theater to hear that fart, Sandler's malicious indifference to the world definitely still makes a sound. Club describes the film as "an inventory of new lows." As for Sandler, he "sits around the house with his movie family, seemingly waiting around for somebody to feed him a line. The funniest thing about this Adam Sandler vehicle is how obvious it is that no one involved cared remotely about making a decent comedy. But it sounds a little like Roger Ebert was driven to tears of rage by it: "The film is reprehensible, dismaying, ugly, artless and an affront to any notion, however remote, of human decency." There was no doubt that reviews for the needless sequel to Human Centipede would be bad.
In the words of Ty Burr at the Boston Globe, "In the grand tradition of following an Academy Award with the worst film of one's career, Natalie Portman appears today in Your Highness, a radioactive turd disguised as a sword-and-sorcery comedy." The poop metaphors continued: "The most painful movie so far in a year that's already scraping the bottom of the barrel, Your Highness is a tedious, dung-colored misfire that sullies the genre of Monty Python and the Holy Grail and The Princess Bride." But too bad for Portman, gay-panic jokes and topless women equaled the opposite. A raunchy period romp starring Natalie Portman, James Franco, Zooey Deschanel and Danny McBride could have been hilarious. What made this particular failure disappointing was its potential. Your Highness Your Highness was a truly wretched movie, but there are many of those. It is called schadenfreude and it isn't beneath us.ĥ. So pardon us if we like to see the condescending makers of insultingly bad movies get what's coming to them. We ordinary humans slave away all week, the government takes our money and all we want to do on Saturday is relax at the theater, but the only thing playing is the steaming pile known as The Smurfs. A great negative review is like a really amazing "Your mom" joke - cutting, but longer and often with more existential despair. But some of the year's movie reviews have proved even more interesting than the films themselves, especially when the movies are bad.įilm critics reach the zenith of their verbal capabilities when excoriating such terrible movies as The Change-up, Twilight: Breaking Dawn and Trespass. As the February 26 Academy Awards ceremony approaches, all 2011's best and worst movie lists have already been circulated and debated ad infinitum.
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