Whiplash (2014)—Damien
Chazelle’s directorial debut—tells the story of Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller), a
19-year-old freshman at the prestigious Shaffer Conservatory of Music, NYC. He aspired
to be one of the greatest jazz drummers under his conductor’s instruction,
Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons). Sounds like it would lead to an inspiring story,
right?
If you only read this synopsis I’ve written, you might think that Whiplash is another cliché movie about music. Jazz musician Adam Neely argued that Whiplash lacks jazzy elements. Go watch his analysis on his YouTube channel so you don’t misunderstand his point. Because honestly, Whiplash isn’t about jazz, it’s not about drumming either. Then what is it actually about?
Damien Chazelle and Justin Hurwitz: from college roommates to filmmaker duo.
Before I discuss this film, let me talk about Damien
Chazelle, the writer and director himself. Whiplash
was inspired by his real-life experience as a drummer in his high school
jazz band. He said Fletcher’s teaching style is not
effective in developing his skill to play the drums. “You’re rushing”,
“you’re dragging”, and “not my tempo” are the top three sentences he often
heard from his conductor. When I watched the scene where Fletcher said those
words, I was like, “The script is good,” but I didn’t know the writer was
traumatized. There are many iconic lines in the whole film, no wonder the
script got nominated for Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay) at the 2015 Oscars,
adapted from the short film Whiplash (2013).
Chazelle wanted to make the feature film Whiplash, but he got no budget, so he made a short film instead. The 18-minute
short film Whiplash was premiered at
the 2013 Sundance Film Festival, and it won the Short Film Jury Prize, which
attracted investors to produce the full-length and complete version of the
script.
From his traumatizing experience in high school, Chazelle realized he no longer wanted to be a jazz drummer. He began pursuing another field in art, he studied filmmaking in the Visual and Environmental Studies department at Harvard University. At Harvard, he lived in Currier House—where he met Justin Hurwitz, his all-time collaborator. Hurwitz composed all of the music from each of Chazelle’s films, including Whiplash.
Miles Teller and J.K. Simmons: the crazy motherfuckers themselves.
As you see above, Miles Teller and J.K. Simmons were
candidly laughing, but you would never see them happy like that in the movie. Teller
told Jimmy Fallon on The Tonight Show that he has been playing drums since he
was 15, but jazz drumming is its own animal, the fundamental thing is holding
sticks differently. He took a lesson for this movie and practiced three days a
week for four hours a day, even found his hands bleeding, just like Andrew.
Guess who taught Teller how to jazz drumming? He was Nate Lang, the actor who
played Tanner.
Simmons told GQ Interview, “I’m a classically trained
musician. I’m a conductor. So I’m not just gonna be some actor up there waving
his arm. I will learn these scores.” So, Teller is an actual drummer and
Simmons is an actual conductor. It’s really crazy, the craziness we see from
the movie is even crazier when the actors played real music.
Why would I watch this film in the first place, and why
would I rewatch it?
I first watched this film for about two years ago. This film
was interesting for me to watch because I’ve seen La La Land (2016)—another film directed by Chazelle—and I loved it.
Another reason? Someone on the internet said, “Fletcher is Gordon Ramsay if he
were a conductor,” but I think Fletcher is scarier than Ramsay.
From my first viewing, I already thought Whiplash was a tragic story. I recently rewatched
it, and I still stand on my point. I still remember when I first watched that
car accident scene. I was like, “Yo, Andrew, what the fuck? The person who hit
you asks you are you okay, why can’t you ask him for help?” But obsession had blinded
Andrew.
Fletcher kind of reminded me of my middle school cabaret
coach. He liked to punish us—both mentally and physically—whenever we made
mistakes, even the tiniest ones. I still remember to this day how he yelled at
me loudly just because I did a wrong dance movement. He did that in a room full
of cabaret members, he publicly humiliated me. A friend outside this
extracurricular told me, “I didn’t know you were difficult to have after-school
sessions with because cabaret rehearsals were quite intense.” Yeah, they were.
Thankfully, my cabaret coach was not as scary as Fletcher. But he was the cause
why other members and I left this extracurricular. Fletcher is one of the
scariest movie villains. It’s even scarier when real-life Fletchers exist and
everywhere. It could be art coaches, sport coaches, or perhaps educational
teachers.
I didn’t want to rewatch this film because of how stressful
it is. But lots of Whiplash TikTok
edits appear on my FYP and they’re all great! So I decided to rewatch this film
recently and I still feel stressed out lol. I think Whiplash is editable because it has good cinematography, Sharone
Meir did a “good job” on this one (iykyk). We can feel the intensity from the
camera angles, the zooms on the characters’ faces, and how their expressions
are captured. I also love how Meir is focused on shooting the instruments. It
feels even more intense when I know Whiplash
was filmed in only 19 days, what a short filming for a movie.
The green and yellow color grading.
If you watch the short film Whiplash, you’ll appreciate the feature film even more. The short
film has no color grading, they have no budget for it. The feature film
consists of green and yellow color grading. Not only for the aesthetics, but
also to give credit to jazz, there are lots of green and yellow on jazz album covers.
Green symbolizes pain. For instance, when Andrew fell down the
stairs, the light was green. After Fletcher pushed him to “earn the part,”
Andrew came home with the green light above, exhausted. Yellow symbolizes
tension. For many scenes, this film uses yellow light to create the tension and
intensity between Andrew and Fletcher. I love that the yellow tone doesn’t
glare or hurt my eyes.
Andrew Neiman.
When Fletcher caught him practicing, Andrew continued to
play the drums without being asked. Andrew kept playing, he tried to impress
Fletcher. When Fletcher asked Andrew to join the studio band, he smiled,
knowing something good was about to happen. As time goes by, it gets worse.
Andrew was thirsty for Fletcher’s validation. Andrew was young. When he got
gaslighted by Fletcher, he believed Fletcher’s method was the right one because
Fletcher was a well-known conductor, someone he looked up to. When Andrew’s dad
thought that Fletcher’s opinion means a lot to Andrew, he nodded.
After the dismissal, Andrew realized how destructive Fletcher
was. He tried to be at peace with himself, to move on with his life. He threw
away all of his drum set behind the door, but he didn’t lock it. He can’t help
it, he still craves for Fletcher’s admiration. Fletcher is an abuser, but
Andrew pleased him. Andrew returned because he still wants to be the greatest.
But is Andrew a victim, though? Or, is he a willing participant? It could be both: he’s a victim and a volunteer in his own suffering. Even though Fletcher is psychologically cruel—from verbal abuse to public humiliation—Andrew believed that pain equals greatness. He doesn’t just accept Fletcher’s method, he internalizes it, even worships it.
The subplot: Andrew’s relationship with Nicole.
What I noticed in the early scene in the film, Andrew saw
Ryan Connolly (Austin Stowell)—his fellow drummer—kiss a girl. Perhaps it felt
like a hopeless romantic moment for Andrew. Andrew has been looking at Nicole
(Melissa Benoist) for some time, and he finally asks her out after Fletcher
asks him to join the studio band. He thinks good things are about to happen—not
only in his musical career, but also in his love life. Ask a pretty girl to go
out is a good idea because why not?
On their first date, Nicole said that she noticed Andrew’s
eyes glued to the floor. Andrew confirmed it’s true because his dad said he has
trouble making eye contact. Perhaps it’s the effect of being a loner? I mean,
Andrew is the only child of a single parent. Also, he doesn’t have any friends
because he’s just never really saw the use, hence why he has a lack of connection
with people.
The possible reason why Nicole accepts Andrew’s invitation
to go on a date comes from her insecurity. Her parents said she has a big chin,
that’s why guys wouldn’t like her. But Andrew told her that she’s pretty and
her chin is nice. Another possible reason is that both of them are loners, they
bond over their loneliness.
Nicole said, “This place is nice.” Andrew said, “Yeah, I
really like the music that they play.” Then he mentioned the drummer’s name.
Why would he say that even though Nicole pays no attention to jazz? Because he cares, it matters to him. He even claimed that Shaffer is the
best music school in the country. Whereas, she’s “just” some girl who doesn’t
know what she wants to pursue, which is fine because some people need more time
to figure it out. Andrew and Nicole are just different types of people when it
comes to finding a passion. One already knows what to do, while the other one
doesn’t know yet—and that’s okay.
After Fletcher offered Andrew to perform in the JVC
Festival, he thought he could fix his life—fixing both his broken career and
his failed relationship. That’s why he called Nicole after a while, but it’s
too late, she already moved on. He’s not discouraged because his love for jazz
is bigger than anything, bigger than his love for Nicole, even bigger than his
love for himself.
Chazelle and Teller’s opinions on Andrew.
In an interview, Chazelle commented that, “I think there’s
a certain amount of damage that will always have been done. Fletcher will
always think he won, and Andrew will always be a sad, empty shell of a person,
and will die in his 30s of a drug overdose. I don’t think Andrew physically
dies, but I think a big part of his soul definitely died.”
In the same interview, Teller added a comment, “I think
Andrew lives a pretty lonely existence. Just working on his craft and becoming
one of the greatest drummers of all time, but being pretty miserable and alone.
People say you are probably going to die alone, and that’s Andrew.”
When his father—Jim Neiman (Paul Reiser)—said that, “Dying,
broke, drunk, and full of heroin at the age of 34 is not exactly my idea of
success.” Andrew answered it with, “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.”
Based on Chazelle and Teller’s comments, I can conclude
that Andrew “sold” his soul to jazz, he’s gotta pay the price. From the dialogue
in the dinner scene, Andrew will likely die in his 30s. If being one of the
greatest drummers of all time means he has to live a depressive life, he
doesn’t mind, he’s willing to do it.
Terence Fletcher.
Simmons’ Oscar is well-deserved. He delivers his dialogues
clearly, he even makes us anxious when he’s just acting. Now, let’s talk about
his character. When Fletcher does get-to-know-me treatment in his early
interaction with Andrew, he says, “Don’t worry about what the other guys are
thinking,” referring to the other students at Shaffer. Andrew already isolates
himself from everything but jazz, that sentence indirectly makes Andrew isolate
himself even more. Both Fletcher and Andrew share one thing in common: jazz consumes
them, it’s the only thing they think about, as if their lives depend on it. We
don’t see students talk to each other because the main characters isolate
themselves from people, jazz is the only shit that matters to them.
Fletcher makes lots of mistakes, but one of his biggest
ones is—he pressures his students to be perfect at playing instruments, but
music isn’t about perfection. Music—including jazz—is about freedom and the joyfulness
of playing it together. Where’s the jazz community that have fun together? Where
are the jazz musicians who play the instruments wholeheartedly? Where are the
jazz artists who create their art freely? Where are jazz enthusiasts who
discuss jazz music? We don’t see that in the film because Fletcher doesn’t
build a healthy jazz environment, he misses the point.
Whiplash is
never about jazz drumming. It’s about a conductor who’s obsessed with the idea
of the next Charlie Parker, even willing to sacrifice talented people to create
one chosen talented person. It’s also about a music student who’s obsessed to
be the best drummer. Whiplash is not
even about loving jazz, it’s about obsession. Fletcher and Andrew hate each
other, but their obsessions burn hotter than their hatred, no wonder why they
can “make it” till the end.
Fletcher interprets Parker’s story as an inspiring one when
in reality, Parker is a depressive person. He’s addicted to heroin and alcohol
due to his stress and anxiety. Andrew is Fletcher’s Charlie Parker, not only as
a jazz sensation, but also Andrew is destined for the same path as Parker did—dying
tragically at such a young age.
If you recall the opening scene, Andrew had a picture of Buddy
Rich on the wall of his practice room. In his next interaction with Fletcher,
Fletcher mentioned Rich’s name, “You just gotta listen to the greats then.
Buddy Rich, Jo Jones...” because he already knew from the practice room that
Andrew is a huge fan of Rich. The first time Andrew played the drums in the
studio band, Fletcher commented, “We got Buddy Rich here.” Andrew smiled,
mistaking sarcasm for praise. Minutes later, Fletcher showed his true color. He
was appealing to Andrew’s drive and motivation before completely tearing it
away. But I don’t think Andrew gives a shit about living a harsh life. I mean,
Rich—his idol himself—is known as a controversial person. As time goes by, the
way Andrew holds the drumsticks looks more and more like Rich did.
Men’s dominance, tempo, intensity, and the jazz club.
You’ll see a lack of women here because Fletcher’s band is
male-dominated—it’s entirely men. The musicians he refers to are the male ones,
such as Buddy Rich, Jo Jones, and Charlie Parker. He also says homophobic slurs
to create toxic masculinity. When he tests a female saxophonist in the Nassau band,
he says. “You’re in the first chair, let’s see if it’s just because you’re cute.”
He doesn’t say the same thing to the male saxophonists—it shows that Fletcher
is a misogynist person. Perhaps, if he had tried to manipulate female musicians
in the same way he does to the men, their reactions might’ve been different.
From his treatment of a female musician, let’s move to how
he treats Andrew, his male musician. Previously, Fletcher warned the whole band
that if any of them don’t know if they’re out of tune, that’s bad enough. He
then made Metz (C.J.
Vana) a scapegoat.
That scene was a clue for the next one. At Andrew’s first rehearsal, Fletcher
asks him, “Were you rushing or were you dragging?” Then Fletcher starts to slap
him in the face when he doesn’t know which one. I found a video on TikTok where
it counts Andrew’s tempo, and he’s actually on the right one. Even though
Andrew’s tempo is not wrong, why would Fletcher say it is? The answer lies in Fletcher’s
perfectionism philosophy, he does that to “push” Andrew to be more perfect.
Andrew doesn’t realize it because as a musician, it’s more difficult to listen
to yourself while playing complicated patterns and tempos. Not understanding
where a mistake lies when corrected by a conductor happens a lot when dealing
with high-pressure situations. For the slapping scene itself, they use fake
slaps. But it looks unconvincing, so they use real slaps instead. So yeah, Simmons
is slapping Teller in the face.
Besides a moment of toxicity, Fletcher’s dominance is also
reinforced through a cinematic technique. If you notice how the camera shoots
every scene when Fletcher enters the rehearsal room, it always focuses on his
shoes first. The students who had previously talked turned into a quiet sound.
Let me quote this from an article about Whiplash
that I read: Fletcher’s presence in the film is often accompanied by an
intense and emphatic silence. If Fletcher enters a noisy room, an immediate
silence will follow. This deliberate and abrupt adaptation of sound emphasizes
Fletcher’s intense and stern character, that he demands a sense of respect from
his students.
After all those things—being dominant, pressuring his
student to play a perfect tempo, and creating the intensity—Fletcher is fired from
Shaffer. After being fired, Fletcher is seen playing piano with a small jazz
band, no longer conducting a big studio band. Fletcher is consistently wearing
black outfits, but at the jazz club, he wears something that is not a black
t-shirt. While his shirt is still a dark tone, it is no longer black—this
represents his loss of control. He no longer has the power and control over musicians
he once did, and as such, he can’t be represented by a black outfit.
Who took the folder?
In this scene, Fletcher warns, “If I ever find one of these
lying around again, I swear to fucking God, I will stop being so polite.” When
Andrew left Tanner’s folder on the chair, Fletcher must’ve taken it. I’d like
to argue that, yeah, Andrew left the folder on the chair because he was about
to take a drink, but what if he was doing it on purpose, and hoping that once
it disappeared, he could replace Tanner’s position?
Still, I think Fletcher is more likely to have taken the
folder. Read what Tanner said carefully, especially on the italic word, “I
can’t go on stage, I don’t know the charts by heart, you know this. I need the music, it’s my memory, I need visual cues.”
It could be implying that Fletcher knows this, so he deliberately took Tanner’s
folder. Someone on YouTube said, “The lost
folder is the same one Fletcher gives to Andrew at the end.”
The side characters: Ryan Connolly and Carl Tanner.
When Fletcher is rotating drummers from Tanner, Andrew, to
Connolly—he doesn’t just make a competition between three of them. He also
builds jealousy, constant comparison, and resentment. I mean, just look at their
eyes, you can tell that they’re jealous of each other when they’re being
compared. When the other drummers play greater than them, they feel less great
than the others, and they start to resent each other because of that. The
greatness concept of this film reminds me of THE GREATEST by Billie Eilish.
At one moment, Fletcher asked Andrew to play the drums at
the JVC Festival. Andrew was like, “What about Ryan Connolly?” Fletcher
answered it with, “All Connolly ever was to me was incentive for you.” It’s evidence
that Fletcher wanted Andrew to push himself and compete with Connolly. Andrew
asked again, “Tanner?” Fletcher said, “Tanner switched to pre-med, I guess he
got discouraged.” Pre-med is a stressful school. The fact that Tanner switched
to pre-med showed that he’d rather study at a less stressful school—even if it’s still stressful—as long as it’s
not as stressful as Shaffer. Fletcher’s teaching method reminds me of a lyric
from Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?
by Taylor Swift, “You wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised
me.” Fletcher’s band is the asylum.
Sean Casey.
In a scene where Fletcher got a phone call, they probably
talked about Sean Casey’s death. When Fletcher announced to the class that one
of his former students had died—which we later learn was pretty much Fletcher’s
fault—he cried. Not because a human being was lost, but because a musician was
lost. Instead of remembering him as a person, he plays his music for the class,
and never talks about the man himself. It really gives insight into how he
views people.
Fletcher said Casey’s cause of death was a car accident,
but he was lying. Casey hanged himself after suffering from anxiety, his mother
claimed that he began feeling depressed during his time as Fletcher’s student.
Fletcher’s lie showed that he felt a little responsible for it, but he didn’t
show any guilt about it. Fletcher’s false “car accident” reason is a clue to
Andrew’s near-dying experience, when he rushes to make it in time to the
performance after forgetting his drumsticks. He was that close to becoming another Fletcher’s casualty. That scene was
inspired by Chazelle’s real-life experience when a car crashed into him before
performing on the stage, but he went to the hospital, unlike Andrew.
Someone on YouTube said, “Fletcher already drove one
drummer to death. It would definitely make sense if Andrew ends up the same
way. The big difference is that one killed himself from Fletcher’s abuse, while
the other returns to his abuser and lives a reckless shell of a life.”
Fletcher’s background.
According to IMDb, the film’s script reveals that Fletcher’s father used to bring him to jazz band performances. It’s implied that his father passed down Fletcher’s abusive and perfectionist tendencies onto him.
There’s a deleted scene where we spend some time with
Fletcher alone in his apartment. In an interview with That Shelf, Simmons
describes the scene. He says, “We shot a half a day of scenes in Fletcher’s
apartment—again, most of which aren’t in the movie—where we see just how
spartan his existence is. It’s a nice apartment, but the one time we see him,
he’s drinking a glass of red wine with a frozen microwave dinner and eating by
himself. He’s a sad guy, and the only thing he has in his life is the music. At
the end of that sequence, we showed me exercising and being obsessive about
things around the house. The last thing is me putting on an old jazz record
from 1938 and letting that wash over me.”
From Simmons’ description, it’s clear that Fletcher has
only two sides. At Shaffer, Fletcher is a terrifying and intimidating conductor.
But when he goes home, he’s nothing but a sad loner. He puts his whole
attention on jazz because he’s nothing without it. This obsessive focus is all
he has left. Chazelle chose to delete that scene because it would soften the
audience’s perspective on how they see Fletcher, they would give him empathy, when
he’s supposed to be viewed as the villain.
The “absolute cinema” part of the entire film: ending.
When Fletcher asks Andrew to perform at JVC, it’s not
because his drummer’s not cutting it—it’s a setup. He says he uses the same old
playlist such as Whiplash and Caravan, but he plays Upswingin’ instead—a song Andrew has no
idea how to play. And, of course—it’s quite impossible to play because the
original song doesn’t have drums in it.
Andrew walks offstage because he feels humiliated. He then
hugs his dad, Jim. The hug Andrew gives to Jim is a goodbye hug before Jim sees
his son become a monster. When Jim tries to comfort Andrew, Jim informs Andrew
that Jim offers help. But Andrew goes back to the stage instead. Why? Because the
abuser will pull you away from everyone who might save you from the abuser. The
look Jim shows in the picture is not a proud look, it’s a concerning one.
When Andrew starts playing Caravan, at first, I don’t think it’s him proving to Fletcher that
he’s the greatest—it’s an act of rebellion. If Fletcher wants to play the game,
Andrew wants to play it too. As the performance goes, Andrew initiates a drum
solo. He then shifts his intention from rebellion to desperately seeking Fletcher’s
approval. In that moment, the light gets darker, to represent that he’s in the
dark. The darkness follows Andrew as if he’s swallowed by it. Andrew becomes
fully invested in drumming. Fletcher’s hands no longer control the scene as
he’s forced to conduct at Andrew’s tempo, he has finally found his Charlie
Parker.
Chazelle confirmed to The New York Times that the opening
scene sums up the whole film. If you notice it again, Fletcher wears a black
t-shirt and a black suit in that scene—the same outfit he and Andrew wear at
the end of the film, representing that the teacher and the student are now
equals.
The movie ends on a
“triumphant” note with both the characters smiling at each other, knowing
they’ve succeeded in their own ways. But have they, though? Rather than
triumph, I’d like to argue that the ending is tragic. Andrew will soon live a
life of tragedy for the rest of his life because he validated Fletcher’s
abusive method.
Nicole
once told Andrew that he has problems maintaining eye contact, he said even his
dad says it too. In this scene, Andrew is able to look Fletcher in the eyes.
It’s not only a look of confidence, but assurance that he’s now capable of
giving exactly what Fletcher needs.
Someone
on TikTok analyzes this film beautifully. I wish I wrote it, but I didn’t. Let
me quote it: What does the final scene say about Andrew’s transformation? The
final scene is a haunting masterpiece, not because Andrew wins, but because he
loses himself in the performance. It seems like a moment of rebellion. But
quickly, we realize it’s not defiance, it’s surrender. As Fletcher starts
conducting, they fall into sync—a dark, wordless understanding. It’s
electrifying, but not redemptive. Andrew isn’t reclaiming power, he’s becoming
exactly what Fletcher wanted. The camera lingers on their eye contact: predator
and prey becoming one. He didn’t just “survive” Fletcher’s abuse, he validated
it. And now, he belongs to that world completely—broken, with no way back,
stuck in a loop.
Then,
what happens after that? Whiplash has
a perfect ending, it doesn’t need a sequel, but I’d like to imagine an epilogue.
Andrew might be promoted to be one of the players—perhaps the core one—at the
Lincoln Center. He finally lives a life he always dreamed of: being one of the
greats. He might be the greatest at drumming, but he’s a loser in humanity. He
might succeed in jazz, but he’s a failure in front of himself. Just like what
Chazelle and Teller argued—something Andrew himself predicted on the dinner table—Andrew will live an empty life and die
in his 30s because of his drug addiction. Chazelle considered including a
post-credit scene showing Andrew’s funeral, but he chose not to.
This
film leaves me with rhetorical questions. Is Andrew’s struggle worth it? Is his
idea of success worth the sacrifice he made? Is losing relationships with
people worth the price? But, at what cost? Does Andrew really need to lose his
sanity—even losing himself—to make his dream come true?
Whiplash is
a remarkable masterpiece, especially in the last 10 minutes. It’s artsy, but
it’s not the kind of “boring” art that casual fans find difficult to enjoy. Although
Whiplash has a cliché story—the most
important thing is—it has a great execution. Someone says it at its best,
“There are no bad ideas, only bad executions.” Whiplash is a film about perfection, so I give this film a perfect
score, an impressive 10/10 rating.
References:
https://youtu.be/SFYBVGdB7MU?si=k85BW3NxGvwnJlYh
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Damien_Chazelle
https://youtu.be/HxzptAt8ewQ?si=r0JGxb6_JcokfRij
https://youtu.be/BgTZDSJKLks?si=bzTAUN9F3vNFOs7Q
https://youtu.be/7ubZWJw3m4w?si=1x8uuXXSDXLPGhES
https://youtu.be/xLOV5qR-Bp4?si=l3GaitgTA1454frK
https://greennwhite.org/a-deep-dive-into-damien-chazelle-whiplash/
https://roundtable.beloit.edu/2024/02/07/the-inner-themes-of-whiplash-an-analysis/
https://villains.fandom.com/wiki/Terence_Fletcher
https://youtu.be/Y8GwUrZNAzE?si=6_QOO3qMBsG5PiMc
https://youtu.be/3ixabhe6o44?si=e4agJ8pxsoDBwy8e
https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSSgH8wwX/
https://youtu.be/U-PSZuiWuhY?si=dEX-xJTR-yoHwqAO
https://youtu.be/4kuuIo9G1wA?si=C17nWa2Bwwf-hreq
https://youtu.be/gHEiqYYrZeg?si=Bk4A3iYjKN42rOF9
https://aninjusticemag.com/ending-of-whiplash-explained-6f6a3cbad78
https://youtu.be/hA-8D3np5Lc?si=rfGZDiF-zlpLXTK_
https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSS4L8EvH/
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