The Whiplash-Black Swan Dialectic
Black Swan and Whiplash seem like entirely different films, with distinct styles, directors, and stories. In reality, however, they are talking to each other, in a dialectic reflecting our society and the gender roles within it.
Black Swan, the 2010 psychological horror-thriller directed by Darren Aronovsky is surprisingly about…ballet. The film manages to scare the viewer with its dark hallucinations as Nina, the main character, tries to embrace the lead part in Swan Lake, the Swan Queen. To master the role, she must perform two different roles, the White and Black Swan.
Whiplash, the 2014 film directed by Damien Chazelle, has a very different story and premise. It is about a young jazz drummer by the name of Andrew Neiman as he deals with his abusive instructor Terrance Fletcher. Amidst the mental torment of his mentor, Andrew attempts to become the best drummer he can be.
Fundamentally, Black Swan is about achieving “perfection.” From the beginning of the film, Nina’s quest for perfection drives her to be meticulously precise in each move that she does, but as her instructor asserts, she is unable to simply let go and allow herself to be absorbed by the art she is performing. While Nina quickly masters the choreography of the White Swan due to the role’s more precision-oriented nature, she must also master the part of the Black Swan to achieve total perfection. As the film progresses, Nina’s mind slowly slips, as she hallucinates more and more,becoming completely absorbed by the enigmatic Black Swan. By the film’s conclusion, to achieve the perfection she seeks, Nina sacrifices her life, dying as she says the words “I felt it. Perfect. It was perfect.” Nina’s mind is fractured by the end of the film, as she kills herself to finally attain balletic perfection in the part of the Black Swan. In a hallucination in which the film implies Nina stabs herself, Nina says “my turn” as she kills a false vision of the White Swan. In Black Swan, perfection is an impossible bar to reach - the only way to do so is to lose oneself completely or one’s life. The movie is basically asking the question: was it worth it?
Mirroring the quest of Black Swan, Whiplash is about becoming “the best.” The film surrounds its protagonist, Andrew, who starts as a socially awkward kid, merely wanting to be successful and receive validation at his art school. When his teacher Fletcher, the most well known band conductor at the conservatory, becomes the means to said validation, a conflict arises as Fletcher will only give that validation to someone who (he deems) can join the ranks of the “greats.” He tells Andrew the story early on: Charlie Parker, one of the most well known, best, and influential jazz saxophonists that ever lived, only became great because Jo Jones, a famous drummer, threw a cymbal at his head when he played a bad solo (a story that isn’t actually true). As he explains later, Charlie Parker’s mortification stirred him to greatness, practicing to never be humiliated again until he became the greatest saxophone player in history. Fletcher directly asserts at the end of the film that this was his goal, “to push people beyond what is expected of them” in order to make the next “Charlie Parker.” Andrew, in seeking the validation of Fletcher and even his family, wants to become one of the greatest drummers in history. In the pursuit of achieving his goal, Andrew seems to give up his mental health, physical health, and even his relationships. He slowly becomes more like Fletcher as he spirals into a monomaniacal fixation on his objective: growing increasingly aggressive as he says “Turn my pages b*tch” to one of the alternate drummers for example. Although it seems he has pushed himself beyond his limits when he is expelled from his conservatory, he finds a second chance when he runs into Fletcher at the bar. Initially, Fletcher intends for this “second chance” to function as both an ultimatum to become great or fall into obscurity, and in the event of failure, revenge for getting him fired.He doesn’t give Andrew the appropriate chart leaving him on the stage to either fail or adapt and thus become one of “the greats”. The stakes of this performance can not be underestimated for Andrew, for if he fails, the well-connected individuals in the audience will remember, Andrew will never become a great drummer, and Fletcher will have his revenge. If he succeeds, however, Fletcher will have created the next Charlie Parker. Fletcher almost gets his revenge, as Andrew initially does fail, but then he returns to the stage and plays “the best mother f*cking solo this world has seen” (in the words of Fletcher referring to Charlie Parker). The movie concludes with Fletcher giving Andrew a nod, a gesture of approval for his solo. By the end of the film, it can be argued that Andrew does achieve his goals. However, Andrew’s success, validation from Fletcher and becoming one of the greats, can’t help but feel melancholic, lost is the young boy with a love of art and creativity. (Like Black Swan), the film also asks the question: was it worth it?
The key difference between the films is this distinction between becoming “one of the greats” and “perfect.” In Whiplash, becoming “one of the greats” is achievable at a certain price. The choice between living a (well-rounded) life with friends, loved ones, and creativity or pursuing the quest to become the greatest at a certain art is the dilemma Whiplash provides. On the other hand, Black Swan’s definition of becoming “perfect” is not achievable and the only way to do so is to sacrifice oneself entirely. The dilemma Black Swan provides is therefore divergent from that of Whiplash, presenting death and the loss of oneself as the ultimate cost of “perfection”.
These expectations can further be extended to show how they reflect real world gender roles. Women can never be perfect; they can never live up to society’s expectations. However, men can…they can even just be “good enough” in the eyes of our society. Whiplash is thus the male equivalent of Black Swan, the films embodying the respective gender expectations.
These divergent expectations of gender can be seen in other ways throughout the films. Drumming is (an immensely) a physical activity; one can see Andrew punch his sets and bleed from the hours of practice. Fletcher hurls brutal insults at his students, and the toxic masculinity pulsates from the Studio Band even from the side conversation of the band members. Black Swan is physical but in a majestic way, a form with far less caveman toxicity and more subtly, precision, and concern of self-images. Furthermore, Nina’s instructor exploits her through her sexuality and repeated sexual misconduct as opposed to the direct insults of Fletcher (an experience far more universal for women).
These films exist in conversation, in a dialectic, reflecting both the nature of goals and how our society views those on the gender binary. It only makes sense that both of these films, especially taken together, would be in my top five favorite films of all time.