Cristina 2022-04-23 07:01:06
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Alejandrin 2022-03-25 09:01:05
The movie is not about ordinary stories, but it is bloody and true, not inspirational, not whitewashing, about personality and moral values, not instilling, not evaluating. Everyone gets what they deserve, including what they lose. Telling stories like this is rare.
Chet 2022-03-24 09:01:09
The story is very enjoyable, the story is simple and expressive, the performances and editing are wonderful, the whole film is a kind of anger, stunned, mad, arrogant, evil, and devilish. The core of the story of "how much do you dare to give to your dreams" is Encouragement, the outer shell is anti-inspirational, subverting the past gentle and affectionate routine of being a teacher and a friend. The master and apprentice are like rivals.
Terence Fletcher: I don't think people understood what it was I was doing at Shaffer. I wasn't there to conduct. Any fucking moron can wave his arms and keep people in tempo. I was there to push people beyond what's expected of them. I believe that is... an absolute necessity. Otherwise, we're depriving the world of the next Louis Armstrong. The next Charlie Parker. I told you that story about how Charlie Parker became Charlie Parker, right?
Andrew: Jo Jones threw a cymbal at his head.
Terence Fletcher: Exactly. Parker's a young kid, pretty good on the sax. Gets up to play at a cutting session, and he fucks it up. And Jones nearly decapitates him for it. And he's laughed off-stage. Cries himself to sleep that night, but the next morning, what does he do? He practices. And he practices and he practices with one goal in mind, never to be laughed at again. And a year later, he goes back to the Reno and he steps up on that stage, and plays the best motherfucking solo the world has ever heard. So imagine if Jones had just said, "Well, that's okay, Charlie. That was all right. Good job." And then Charlie thinks to himself, "Well, shit, I did do a pretty good job." End of story. No Bird. That, to me, is an absolute tragedy. But that's just what the world wants now. People wonder why jazz is dying.
Terence Fletcher: Everybody remember, Lincoln Center and its ilk use these competitions to decide who they are interested in and who they are not. And I am not gonna have my reputation in that department tarnished by a bunch of fucking limp-dick, sour-note, flatter-than-their-girlfriends, flexible-tempo dipshits. Got it?
