Whiplash Page #9

CARL:

Yes.

FLETCHER:

The folder is YOUR f***ing responsibility,

Tanner! You should have known not to give

Neiman your folder. You give a retard a

calculator and he’ll try to turn his TV on

with it. Now get your ass on-stage before I--

CARL:

I can’t...

FLETCHER:

Can’t what?

CARL:

(doesn’t want to have to say this--)

I -- I can’t go on-stage... I don’t know

the charts by heart...

Pink (9/10/2013)

FLETCHER:

Come again, darling?

CARL:

You know this... I have -- I need the music,

my memory -- it’s, it needs visual cues-

FLETCHER:

Visual cues??

CARL:

--it’s a medical conditio--

FLETCHER:

A medical condition? What are you,

Sanjay Gupta?? Play the f***ing music!!

CARL:

I can’t.

ANDREW:

I can.

Fletcher and Carl both look at him. Neither was expecting him

to chime in. Andrew seems almost as surprised...

FLETCHER:

You know “Whiplash” by heart?

ANDREW:

Yes. Every measure. Every note.

Quickly realizing this is now his only option--

FLETCHER:

You’d better pray your memory doesn’t

fail you, Neiman. And I hope you’ve

improved since last month’s rehearsal. I

am not about to start losing now.

Then, to the rest of the band-

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

ON-F***ING-STAGE!!

45 INT. DUNELLEN AUDITORIUM - STAGE - MOMENTS LATER 45

The PLAYERS in their places. And there, on the set,

overwhelmed, trying to make this one shot count -- is Andrew.

ANNOUNCEMENT:

With their second selection, the Shaffer

Conservatory Studio Band.

Pink (9/10/2013)

46

Fletcher faces the band. Zeroes in on Andrew. The wild-card.

Andrew rubs the sweat from his palms. This is it, this is

it... Adjusts the drums, tightens the snares. Carl sitting

behind him, burning holes with his eyes...

ANDREW:

Five-two-two-six-two-two... Six-two-two...

Fletcher raises his arm. Hand suspended in air, finger waiting

to move... Andrew locks eyes on it. Heart pounding now...

And --the finger moves. The band begins WHIPLASH OVERBROOK. A

surging 7/4. Andrew seems caught off-guard at first. Struggles

to keep up. Then reaches the right speed -- and stays there.

Fletcher keeps his eye on him, waiting for him to f*** up...

But Andrew doesn’t. He gets the first hit. Awkward, but in

time. Then the second hit -- also graceless, but on target.

And here comes the key moment. Fletcher turns his attention

to the trumpets -- and away from Andrew.

Barely believing his luck, Andrew plays another bar. Still

Fletcher doesn’t look at him. He’s focused on other players.

The number builds some more. And-

HEAD JUDGE (PRE-LAP)

First place. Shaffer Conservatory.

INT. DUNELLEN AUDITORIUM - STAGE - HOURS LATER 46

Applause. Fletcher summons his PLAYERS to the stage. The JUDGE

hands him the microphone. Fletcher takes it, hesitantly. His

band behind him -- including Andrew...

FLETCHER:

I’m...supposed to say a few words but...

it’s these kids who should be speaking...

(turning to his band, earnestly)

You earned this, gang.

(beat, turns to the audience)

You know... When I was a kid, I saw God. Or

as some people know him, Charlie Parker. My

dad snuck me out of school so we could make

the drive into Chicago. It was a bar so he

had to sneak me in, hidden under his coat.

I didn’t know where in the hell I was. I

was all of seven. But then, by the time I

was on my third Shirley Temple, this nice-

looking man went up on-stage and started

playing. And I’ve never been the same

since.

(MORE)

Pink (9/10/2013)

FLETCHER (CONT'D)

(turning again to his band)

You guys mean the world to me, you know...

(back to the audience)

I think of them like they were my own kids.

Treat them that way, too. Treat ‘em like my

dad treated me. Meaning I terrorize them.

(laughter, and to the band,)

But it’s true, gang. You’re my family...

Something about how Fletcher says this suggests he means it...

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Thank you. Thank you so much.

He wavers. Then steps aside and exits with his band.

46A INT. DUNELLEN AUDITORIUM - STAGE - WINGS - CONTINUOUS 46A

The STAGE HAND appears, carrying a red folder. Going up to Carl

and Andrew--

STAGE HAND:

This yours? I think a janitor threw it in

the trash by accident.

Carl looks. It’s his MUSIC FOLDER. He looks behind at Andrew.

INT. STUDIO BAND ROOM - GEHRING HALL - DAY 47

A new day of rehearsal. Andrew enters the room, passes the piano--

PIANIST:

Don’t you go taking my folder...

Andrew looks at him. Wary, he makes his way to the drums...and

to Carl. Reaches in to help Carl adjust the cymbals when--

CARL:

Do not touch the set.

Andrew stops. Just then -- the DOOR OPENS, and Fletcher enters.

FLETCHER:

“Cherokee”.

(looks at Carl)

What are you doing?

No answer. Carl, seated at the set, is visibly confused.

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Core only today, I can’t waste time

with alternates.

Pink (9/10/2013)

48

Carl stays still. What...? Andrew looks just as shocked.

But Fletcher keeps on staring. He’s dead-serious. Finally, Carl

slides off, stunned, as Andrew takes his place... And, calmly

tossing this off even though he knows how much it hurts--

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

Tanner, make sure to turn Neiman’s pages.

Then he raises his hand. Andrew holds his sticks, still

shocked. This is as clear a verdict of his playing at

Overbrook as he’ll ever get.

He’s the new core drummer.

Fletcher CLAPS the band off, and before we hear any music we’re-

48

INT. ROAD TO NEW JERSEY - BUS - DAY 48

Andrew watches a VIDEO on his iPhone... It’s 70’s footage and

audio of a grey-haired DRUMMER, a face we’ve seen before...

BUDDY RICH. Andrew smiles. Relaxed. Proud.

A bubble pops up: “1 NEW VOICEMAIL, 1 NEW TEXT MESSAGE”.

Andrew opens the text. The name on it: “NICOLE”. It reads:

“You free Thursday?”

Andrew is about to answer. Hesitates. Plays the voicemail.

CARL (O.S.)

Neiman... You lost that folder on purpose.

You knew I didn’t know the chart by

heart... Answer me... I’ve been core for

two years. I’ve been drumming since I was

three. I earned my spot you asshol-

Andrew hangs up. Looks back at the text message. Considering

again...

Then he just resumes watching the video.

49 INT. NEW JERSEY - JIM’S HOUSE - KITCHEN - EVENING 49

Jim grabs a platter from the stove, Andrew by his side.

JIM:

How’s it going in Studio Band?

Pink (9/10/2013)

49

ANDREW:

Good. I think he likes me more now.

JIM:

His opinion means a lot to you, doesn’t it?

Jim looks at Andrew. Almost accusatory. A moment...

ANDREW:

Yeah...

JIM:

Grab the shakers please.

INT. JIM’S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT 50

Seven people seated at the table: Jim and Andrew, Andrew’s

uncle FRANK, aunt EMMA, and 18-year-old cousin DUSTIN. To Jim--

UNCLE FRANK:

Jimbo -- overcooked!

(to Emma, laughing re: the meat)

I can barely chew this thing.

Jim laughs along. Andrew watches. There’s an undercurrent to

the joking. The power dynamic between the brothers is clear.

UNCLE FRANK (CONT’D)

He just laughs.

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