There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job. Such is the philosophy of J.K. Simmons' monstrous music instructor Terence Fletcher in Damien Chazelle's thrillingly brutal masterpiece Whiplash. With his bullet-shaped bald head, mad-dog eyes, and bite that's every bit as bad as his bark, Fletcher is like a vicious Marine drill sergeant at Parris Island. His latest recruit is Andrew Neiman (brilliantly played by Miles Teller), a cocky jazz-drummer prodigy whom he puts through a meat grinder of physical and verbal abuse. We've all seen movies like this before: A naïve kid is beaten down only to then be built back up. But Chazelle has more on his mind than 106 minutes of bebop, bleeding palms, and bluster. He's grappling with Big Ideas—ambition, alienation, and the psychological toll of pursuing perfection—via two actors who boil over with bare-knuckle intensity. Whiplash is a film that electrifies you with its live-wire beat.

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