A Study in Black: Whiplash

The Effects of Saturn Shown in Storytelling

There is no place where the effects of astrology are more obvious than in the stories we tell. That’s what astrology is all about, really. The story that’s playing out in the current moment. Films are a great place to see this. The themes and characters expose the nature of the energies around us in intense, distilled visual experiences. One example that comes to mind is the movie Whiplash, a story of a young drummer who aspires to join the prestigious, award-winning jazz band at his college, a music school. It’s hard to imagine a story that could evoke the energy of Saturn in Scorpio than this movie.

It is an exposé of the dark, intense desires that go into the creation of art, and the forging of an artist. Saturn is all about stress-testing things, determining what can stand up to the ravages of time. Nothing can be half-assed, nothing can be be anything other than rock-solid and unshakeable. “You must get it right. Every time. Absolute precision. If you can’t do that much, fuck off and die for all I care.” This is what Saturn demands. Scorpio, of course, is a water sign. Like Cancer, it is all about relationships and emotions, the dynamic between other and self, but unlike Cancer it is about depth — nothing that you can see on the surface can be taken for granted. Unlike Cancer, it isn’t about the family, but about more individual connections. How does Saturn find the durable, stable building material he needs in such a sign? In the case of the artist, the musician, what is needed is a dependable, reliable base from which the musician can consistently perform. Where in mercurial Scorpio can such solid footing be found?

Setting the Stage

The movie opens with our young drummer protagonist, Andrew, in a practice room, a closet really, working on his drumming technique, when he is interrupted by an older man. The man asks him, “Do you know who I am?” When Andrew nervously nods yes, he tells him to continue what he was doing. Then he just listens, and judges. Suddenly he turns around and walks out of the room. Not another word.

The man, of course, is Saturn. He has a name in the movie, but it’s not really important. He’s Saturn. J. K. Simmons, the actor, embodies this masterfully. Saturn never asks for permission to do something. He’ll interrupt another instructor’s class, demanding that the students play and excoriating any that he finds subpar. This is, in fact, precisely what he does in the next scene he appears in in Whiplash. Saturn appears, throws a test in your face, and ruthlessly discards whoever fails to perform it acceptably. If you can pass, however, then your reward is another test. This is what happens to Andrew. Saturn decides he likes his playing, so he tells him to come to the school’s jazz band practice, which Saturn directs, the next day at 7 am sharp. Again, the emphasis is on precision.

The next morning, Andrew scrambles to get ready, rushes out the door and makes it just in time for the 7 am practice, only to find the room completely…empty. No one is there. But Andrew waits. He waits, and waits, and finally a few minutes before 9 am people begin to come in. Another test. Saturn himself doesn’t appear until precisely 9 o’clock. He walks in, silences the room, tells them the song they’ll be working on today, and sets to work.

When he detects someone out of tune, he storms about the room, asking each student whether they’re sharp or flat. When he finds someone who doesn’t know, Saturn erupts. He makes the student play notes, asking if he is sharp or flat, and finally tosses him out of the band as the musician emotionally deflates under this scrutiny. When he is gone, he calls out to another student — “actually, you were the one who was out of tune.” — then tells the band that, because that boy didn’t know, and couldn’t answer, that even though he was actually in tune, he didn’t belong in the band.

Emotional Control Under Fire

At this point, the pattern of testing begins to become very recognizable. Saturn in Scorpio evaluates you based on your ability to maintain emotional stability under pressure. When you’re upset, disturbed, infuriated, pushed to your limits — how do you react? When you’ve had a string of successes, do you get too big for your boots and rest on your laurels, or can you still accept criticism and drive for continuous improvement?

The most spectacularly archetypal line Saturn says in the film is not any of the enormous explosions of fury where he berates someone for their inability to perform, critiquing them and demanding better — no, in my opinion, it is what he says as the band is about to step out on stage for a performance: “Let’s have fun, everyone.” This is what Saturn the performer seeks. When you have stability in your performance, unshakeable confidence in your skills, in the precision of your execution, then you can have fun with what you’re doing. That’s when the performance comes alive. This is what Saturn seeks.

And yet, as Andrew discovers, it is impossible to maintain this stability, to possess this sort of confidence while you are seeking the approval of Saturn. It is something that has to come from within. At some point Saturn needs to be told “I’ve got this under control.” If you don’t, the tests will never cease. But don’t take my word for it. The way the film demonstrates this is is so much more impactful than anything I can say. It is brilliant, dramatic, and dynamic. I have only looked briefly under the surface here, and I don’t want to look any deeper. This film has more to offer than what I could ever cover here. Instead, I encourage you to go and watch it. The best way to learn about archetypal patterns, whether they be a planet like Saturn or a sign like Scorpio, is to interact with them through art. The purity of the experience alone is something worth beholding.