– What could possibly cause a potential aneurysm just by sitting down for two hours? The film WHIPLASH of course!

Electrifyingly kinetic from performance to edit, every moment is intimately indicative of the suffocating world of obsession as Whiplash tells the story of music student (Miles Teller) and his fractious relationship with toxic mentor ( JK Simmons). In my humble opinion, Whiplash is a near perfect example of the age old tale of the genius I have ever seen. From the film’s opening moments I felt an unusual urge to strap myself in my seat as I prepared to for a dizzying journey that doesn’t really let up until the when the screen turns to black and the closing credits roll. I left pondering if this story wasn’t actually based on the director, Damien Chazelle’s life, the claustrophobic obsessive nature of the film was so visceral so present in every pore of the film, one has to assume the director must have experienced this in his life in order to be able to so succinctly express it.

In almost every scene narrative expectations are turned on their heads as we enter a cutthroat music conservatory, where promising drummer Andrew draws the attention of the notoriously tyrannical teacher Terence Fletcher. After winning a seat behind the drums in Fletcher’s jazz band Andrew experiences for himself Fletcher’s tactics of fear and intimidation in order to push his students to perfection. This film bears little resemblance to those seemingly of the same ilk. It’s less Fame, more Rocky or even the first half of Full Metal Jacket. This is a fresh and welcomed take on the well worn teacher and student dynamic as the two titular characters engage in a battle of wills. Fletcher terrorises and humiliates Andrew who in turn becomes so obsessed with pleasing Fletcher and achieving the greatness he thinks is seen in him – why else would Fletcher bother with him? – that he internalises Fletcher’s methods not just on himself (we see regularly his hands bloodied from obsessive practice) but on those around him.

Despite the familiar beats in Whiplash such as the doomed (but also sweet) romance Andrew embarks on with cinema usher and student Nicole, Chazelle seems to be able to keep a freshness to these beats with whip smart (pun intended) dialogue and excellent turns from all its cast. Particular stand outs are the two leads JK Simmons and Miles Teller. It’s no real surprise to me the excellence of Sir JK Simmons since his days as the genuinely unnerving Vernon Schillinger in Oz. So throughout Whiplash, despite how despicable he was being on-screen, I smiled ear-to-ear because finally the rest of the world gets to see the genius that is Sir Simmons. As the acid tongued Fletcher, Simmons displays a magnetic presence both physical and emotional as he expressive face veers from gentle admonishment to all-out venomous rage almost instantaneously. Never has “not quite to my beat” filled an audience with such dread.

Able to hold his own against such intense acting is Miles Teller as Andrew. Admiring his talent since discovering sleeper gem The Spectacular Now, Teller has a natural fluidity and intelligence that pairs well with Simmons’ intensity. Watching them both was watching something very special. To boot he is an extremely talented musician, performing a genuinely enthralling drum solo (usually the idea of a screen ‘genius’ proving his talent in the finale of film usually has me rolling my eyes and kissing my teeth because they just never quite seem to be as good as the film would have us believe).

Smartly directed by Writer/Director Damien Chazelle with a clean crispness that keeps the narrative inventive and the pace spritely, it’s a step in the right direction away from Grand Piano – an Elijah Wood vehicle penned by Chazelle also about a musical genius – a terrible film and shall be mentioned no more here. Chazelle is ably aided by great cinematography from Sharone Meir who keeps pace with quick and sweeping camera work. Also lending a hand to the film’s urgency is the excellent nimble editing work of Tom Cross who like a trained pianist creates the rhythm of suspense that acts as the heart of the film.

Leaving a 9am screening of a film with a spring in your step and the drum beat still pounding through your veins is a sign that a film has resonated and Whiplash really did. It makes sense to see it being recognised because it deserves to be. It’s also reassuring and affirming that there is genuine filmmaking talent to look forward to seeing their work in the future.

While Whiplash is undoubtedly one of the best films of 2014 and very much in my heart, it is after all pure cinema at it’s best. It was pipped to the number one spot by a film that resonated with me on a more personal level and that film was GIRLHOOD.

2014 was the year where film finally got the ‘coming of age’ story right. We have our classics like Stand By Me and a few others but for every film of Stand By Me calibre, you have dozens more insufferably earnest and dishonest depictions of this milestone in a person’s life. All seemingly written by people who have only a fleeting understanding of what it is to grow up because they haven’t quite done it themselves. But in 2014, film redeemed itself with it’s approach to how it depicted the journey of change with the really excellent We Are The Best!, the very good if flawed Boyhood, my third favourite film of the year The Forgotten Kingdom and lastly my absolute favorite film of the year Girlhood.

In an ill-attempt (my opinion) to jump on the bandwagon of Boyhood, this french drama directed by Celine Sciamma (Tomboy and Water Lilies) was originally titled Bande De Filles (Band of Girls). While the original title is nothing special, it’s more preferable to Girlhood (although the latter is actually more relevant a title) as it has inevitably drawn unfair and incorrect comparisons to Richard Linklater’s lauded latest. While Boyhood should be praised for it’s innovative 7Up series approach to narrative filmmaking, for every small moment beautifully realised, there is an overwhelming feeling of contrivance to the structured set ups that read like scenes ripped from a soap opera. It’s actual narrative is quite shallow, saved by Linklater’s masterful capture of perfect small moments. Girlhood certainly has it moments of overripe social commentary but it’s overall feel and this is my opinion only has more moments of honesty than that of Boyhood. Girlhood‘s overall feel has a deeper complexity that lends it a richness that Boyhood lacks.

I think that begins with its lead. Marieme, a quiet young girl, burdened by her lack of prospects and overwhelming responsibilities at home, (an evolving and involving turn from newcomer Karidja Toure) joins an all girl gang who’s sassy members’ volatile behaviour yet sisterly slowly brings her out of her shell. Under the spell of finally belonging, Marieme starts to make brave and foolish decisions that threaten her future. Toure’s evolution to monosyllabic wide eyed teen to wannabe girl gangster and then jaded yet vulnerable young woman is revelatory. It’s not just the hairstyles (have to comment on the Parisian version of the weave. Those weaves. Those Weaves though. They were killing me.) but her whole demeanour changes as she approaches the realities of life and the consequences of her actions.

What sets Girlhood apart from Boyhood is that it explores the obstacles already that exist for a young person regardless of the aspirations they might have for themselves. Girlhood focuses specifically on what it’s like for a black person to come of age and because the film acknowledges this social obstacles, it has been accused of ‘social moralising’ with its focus on life in inner city Paris and for that they mark the film down.

I call bullshit here.

Like Boyhood is Mason’s story. Girlhood is Marieme’s. This is Marieme’s world. And her world is full of working class blacks struggling to succeed in a white world. Her social standing or lack there of has a huge impact in the choices she makes. You cannot fail to acknowledge her disappointment at discovering that her grades are too low for her to progress to a better school or the sense of dread and anger that she will have to instead go to a vocational school to essentially end up like her mother and become a cleaner. The societal implications are huge. She is offered no alternatives to bettering herself other than to accept her lot. Having aspirations is something to be ridiculed in Marieme’s world. In such a world, the role of social structures has to be acknowledged because for girl’s like Marieme that is the world in which they live. They can’t afford to be so individualistic as a boy like Mason, who’s educational attributes are never referenced because his path through further education and career attainment is not determined by these factors. He is in a position of privilege where meritocracy and intelligence is secondary to societal privilege.

Sciamma’s take on Marieme’s story isn’t really about race anyway. Save a moment where Marieme is followed around by an overly intrusive shop assistant who is quickly and loudly called out about her discriminatory behaviour by the other girls (who later reveal that they do actually steal, they just weren’t stealing then), the racial implications to Marieme’s story is never aggressively acknowledged. It’s more implicit. It’s just there. What’s of more interest to Sciamma (and is also evident in her other films) is what it’s like to be a girl/woman. Girlhood essentially looks at patriarchal structure of things, the appropriation of women and their bodies and how girls like Marieme navigate this. In it’s minimalist, docu-style approach it presents a stark look at growing up but from a distinctly female perspective.

The film begins exploring the milieu and patriachal oppression in which Marieme lives. Stripped of a childhood to begin with Marieme is tasked with looking after her two younger sisters due to an overworked mother and absent father, she spends her time shielding her sisters and herself from her domineering and abusive brother intent on keeping her in line and essentially controlling her progress into a woman. As she finds herself falling in love with Djibril, one of her brother’s friends, she’s hesitant to act upon her feelings, afraid of her brother’s reactions.

It’s not until she joins her gang where their mantra is to give into your every desire that she embarks on a tentative and secretive relationship with Djibril. After she rejects Djibril’s proposal to be ‘his woman’ and settle for a life on the estate with a baby, Marieme is essentially punished by having vicious rumours spread about her that force her to leave the estate and her friends. Totally alone at this point and reduced to working in the drug game, to protect herself from male ‘friends’ and foes, in particular the man who helped her escape her estate in the first place, Marieme adopts a masculine disguise feeling it better to pass off as a man or butch woman to keep herself safe.

Girlhood is essentially one girl’s search for a better life for herself. She doesn’t quite know what she wants. Her aspirations are ill-defined but then again, very few 16 year-olds ever know what they want to do with the rest of her life. But what is clear is that  Marieme’s desire for autonomy, to self-determine her destiny rather than have it prescribed to her by society or the men in her life. And that is what resonated with me most. Her search takes her from her estate, to a gang and beyond, full of naive actions and ill-conceived decisions, she’s attempting to strike out on her own and is willing to leave those she cares about to do so. It initially appears jolting when it’s revealed that the central plot of Girlhood is not an exploration of dynamics of these group of girlfriends (as the film’s original title and promotional material would have it seem) but for me it works because this story is not just about a group of friends. It’s all about growing up.

My love for the film can be encapsulated in a single scene that became my film moment of the year. Beautifully capturing (this scene is also striking in its cinematography) the very essence of Girlhood – navigating growing up while still kind of being a kid (with spiked drinks and albeit stolen club dresses but eventually descending into childish glee as they go from timidly lip-syncing to Rihanna’s Shine Like a Diamond but gradually joining each other in belting out a song about hope with complete joy and in absolute friendship is a wonderful moment that is also melancholic as this moment of complete contentment and belonging is indeed just a moment.)

When a film manages to not only encompass it’s very essence so succinctly in a scene (and can persuade me to want to sing along to a Rihanna song) it’s any wonder GIRLHOOD was my film of 2014.