Whiplash · written by Damien Chazelle · 2014

Andrew plays until his hands bleed as Fletcher insults him and cycles the exhausted drummers through the part.

Scene 65 of 117 · ≈ 1 min on screen · Act two

Fletcher

Act oneAct twoAct three

Begins 1:05 into a 1:54 film

The story so farBefore scene 65

A young jazz drummer pursues a place among the country’s best, pushing himself toward greatness under the control of a brilliant, abusive instructor.

Scenes 1–6
Andrew lives inside solitary practice, family movie nights, and an ideal of greatness learned from jazz legends.
Scenes 7–13
Shaffer's hierarchy makes Andrew doubt his prospects, while he wants a chance to become an exceptional drummer.
Scenes 14–17
Fletcher draws Andrew back from transferring, and Andrew enters Studio Band while beginning a relationship with Nicole.
Scenes 18–48
Andrew learns Fletcher's brutal rules, competes for status, and tries to survive the first rehearsals.
Scenes 49–50
Andrew plays Whiplash from memory and helps Shaffer win the competition, gaining the core position he wanted.
Just before
Scene 62
On the subway, Andrew studies the chart and silently rehearses its beats.
Scene 63
Fletcher announces Sean Casey's death, then turns rehearsal into an exhausting contest among the drummers.
Scene 64
The exhausted players wait in the hallway while Fletcher's abuse continues through the rehearsal-room wall.
Scene 65
This scene

65INT. GEHRING HALL - STUDIO BAND ROOM - NIGHT

FLETCHER

--that the fastest you can go?? It is no

fucking wonder Mommy ran out on you, you

worthless acne-scarred fetal-position

Hymie fuck. GET OFF!!!

Andrew -- whole body shaking, had been playing for half an hour straight -- gets off the kit, struggling for breath, hands coated with torn blisters and blood. Fletcher’s rage is unlike anything we’ve seen from him: pained, vengeful...

Carl gets on the kit. Fletcher CLAPS. The clock: 11:06.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Well what do we have here? Gay Pride

himself. This is not a Sinead O’Connor

concert, Tanner. I am sorry to inform you

we will not be serving Baked Alaska and

Cosmopolitans tonight. Now why don’t you

try playing faster than you give fucking

hand jobs?? One! One! One! One! OFF THE

FUCKING KIT!!!

Carl stops. Staggers back, dazed, as Ryan moves up and begins.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Now we got ourselves our mick fucking paddy-

cracker. Did you know you look like a

fucking leprechaun? I think I’ll call you

Flannery.