Whiplash Page #6

STUDIO CORE MEMBER #3 **

Maybe if he spent half the time **

practicing that he does to polishing off **

cheeseburgers... **

STUDIO CORE MEMBER #4 **

(laughs) **

You got that right. **

Andrew’s eyes follow the PLAYERS. They’re tall, built. Next

to them Andrew feels like a scrawny teen.

Pink (9/10/2013) 27A

Just then -- a PAIR OF DRESS SHOES reach Andrew’s side.

Startled, Andrew looks up. It’s Fletcher. Andrew scrambles to

his feet, as Fletcher puts his arm over him and -- earnestly,

back to the warm tone he displayed days ago --

FLETCHER:

(walking Andrew down the hall)

Listen, Andrew. I know what you saw in

there is worrying you, but there’s a big

difference. This is your first day.

(MORE)

Pink (9/10/2013)

FLETCHER (CONT'D)

Metz had been dragging mud for two years.

(comes to a stop, looks straight

at Andrew--)

Besides, you’re no Elmer Fudd. This is a

huge opportunity for you. You know that,

right?

ANDREW:

Yeah...

FLETCHER:

Your parents musicians?

ANDREW:

No, not really...

FLETCHER:

What do they do?

ANDREW:

Well, my dad’s a writer.

FLETCHER:

What’s he written?

ANDREW:

Well he’s...I guess he’s mainly a

teacher.

FLETCHER:

College?

ANDREW:

Pennington High.

FLETCHER:

And your mom?

ANDREW:

I don’t know... She left when I was a

baby.

FLETCHER:

So no musicians in the family.

ANDREW:

...No, I guess not...

FLETCHER:

Well, you’ve just got to listen to the

greats then. Jo Jones, Buddy Rich. You

know, Charlie Parker became “Bird”

because Jones threw a cymbal at his head.

(MORE)

Pink (9/10/2013) 28A

FLETCHER (CONT'D)

You see what I’m saying?

(Andrew nods)

(MORE)

Pink (9/10/2013) 29

FLETCHER (CONT'D)

The key is --relax. Don’t worry about

the numbers or what the other players

think. You’re here for a reason. You

believe that, don’t you?

(Andrew nods)

Say it.

ANDREW:

I’m here for a reason.

FLETCHER:

Good.

A beat. And, finally--

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Now have fun.

He pats Andrew on the back -- then promptly walks off.

23 INT. STUDIO BAND ROOM - GEHRING HALL - MOMENTS LATER 23

The players are taking their seats. Slowly, Andrew walks in.

Eyes the DRUMS. Takes a deep breath. He can do this...

Carl is seated in the alternate’s seat. The drum throne is

empty. Just waiting for Andrew...

Andrew sits down. WE MOVE IN CLOSER ON HIM -- as he adjusts

his seat, lays his music out, gets his sticks ready...

FLETCHER (O.S.)

Alright, gang.

Andrew looks up. Fletcher has just entered.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

“Whiplash”.

Fletcher eyes Andrew.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Neiman -- just do your best.

Andrew nods. Looks at the music. Counts in his head. He’s

ready...

Fletcher CLAPS the band off. WHIPLASH STUDIO BAND REHEARSAL

ANDREW #1, mid-tempo, far easier than before. Andrew’s doing

well. Fletcher nods, smiles--

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Let’s see some fills.

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30

Andrew fills, rolling down the toms. Fletcher grins.

Andrew, seeing Fletcher’s grin, can’t help but smile. Getting

into it now. The whole BAND building, his drumming growing more

intense. He fills again.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Snap! We’ve got Buddy Rich here.

Andrew grins. Fills again. Accenting, playing a counter-rhythm.

When he trips up. Comes in a hair late.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

(waving the band to stop)

Ok, little trouble there. No problem.

Let’s pick it up from 17.

Fletcher claps. Andrew plays WHIPLASH STUDIO BAND

REHEARSAL ANDREW #2. Fletcher waves him to stop again.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Not my tempo. Ok?

Fletcher claps again. Then another wave for Andrew to stop.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Downbeat on 18. Ok?

He’s still soft, calm, warm. He claps again. Then, stopping-

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

The “and” of 4. Bar 17, the “and” of 4.

He claps off. Stops Andrew again, only seconds later.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

17, the “and” of 4. Ok? And you’re

rushing a little...

Andrew nods. Getting nervous now... Fletcher claps again. Stops

again.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Not quite my tempo. All good, here we go.

He’s about to clap off when, out of nerves, Andrew hits his

bass drum early.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

No -- ready?

Fletcher claps. Stops Andrew yet again.

Pink (9/10/2013)

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Sorry, you’re -- you’re dragging a little

now.

(Andrew tries to pull his seat

up, getting anxious, flustered)

All set?

Andrew nods. Get it together... Fletcher claps. Stops.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

You’re rushing.

Claps again. Stops again.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Dragging.

Claps again. Andrew plays WHIPLASH STUDIO BAND REHEARSAL

ANDREW #3, expecting another stop -- but it doesn’t come.

Fletcher nods, as though now satisfied, then slowly turns

around. Puts his hand on a spare chair. Looks like he’s

about to sit down, when...

...like a flash of lightning he WHIPS up the chair and HURLS

it straight at Andrew’s head.

Andrew DUCKS, as the chair CATCHES the top of the bass drum,

almost toppling it over. An EAR-PIERCING CLANG OF CYMBALS, as

Andrew’s sticks go flying and the chair hits the floor.

Then -- total silence in the room. Andrew is shell-shocked,

beyond shaken, what in the f*** just happened???...

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

(as though discussing the weather)

Why do you suppose I just hurled a chair

at your head, Neiman?

ANDREW:

I... I... I d--don’t kn-

FLETCHER:

Yes, you do.

ANDREW:

I... The...the tempo...

FLETCHER:

Were you rushing or were you dragging?

ANDREW:

I... I don’t... I don’t--

Pink (9/10/2013)

Fletcher BOUNDS up to him, almost RUNNING -- suddenly beast-

like, terrifying, veins set to BURST--

FLETCHER:

Start counting.

ANDREW:

(like a deer in the headlights)

...Five-six-seven-

FLETCHER:

In four, damnit!

ANDREW:

One-two-three-four...

Fletcher SLAPS Andrew on his left cheek. Then-

FLETCHER:

Keep counting!!

ANDREW:

One-two-(

another slap)

--three-(

a third slap)

--four-

FLETCHER:

Was I rushing or I was dragging?

ANDREW:

I -- I don’t -- I don’t know-

FLETCHER:

Start counting again.

ANDREW:

One-two-(

a slap on his left cheek)

--three-four-o-(

another slap)

--ne-two-three-

FLETCHER:

Was I rushing or was I dragging?

ANDREW:

R--rushing...

FLETCHER:

So you do know the difference! If you

dare to sabotage my band I will f*** you

like a pig.

(MORE)

Pink (9/10/2013)

FLETCHER (CONT'D)

Now are you a rusher, are you a dragger,

or are you going to be ON MY F***ING

TIME?!?

This is a new Fletcher we’re seeing. An animal. But no one

but Andrew seems surprised-

ANDREW:

I--I’m gonna be on your time...

FLETCHER:

(flips over a new sheet of

music, points to the top)

What does this say?

ANDREW:

260... Quarter note 260...

FLETCHER:

Count a 260.

ANDREW:

O-one-two-three-four...

FLETCHER:

Jesus f***ing Christ -- I didn’t know

they allowed retards into Shaffer! Do you

expect me to believe you can’t read

tempo? Can you even read music???

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