Whiplash (2014)

Whiplash keeps an uncomfortable secret: it isn’t totally sure the screaming teacher is wrong. That’s the movie’s one real problem, and it’s also why you can’t shake it. J. K. Simmons plays Fletcher with a calm smile that flips into pure terror inside a single rehearsal, and you never relax around him again. Miles Teller makes Andrew so hungry to be great that he breaks up with his girlfriend to free up practice time, which tells you everything. The editing hits like a snare. Every cut lands on the beat, and your pulse doesn’t come down for 106 minutes. The final performance plays like an action movie climax with a drum kit instead of a car chase. All that from a reported $3.3 million budget, and it pulled $50.4 million worldwide. A 9.2 because it’s the most intense movie anyone has made about jazz, even if its message gets murky on the drive home. $637 says you tap along to a song in the car and then panic about whether you’re on tempo.

What works: J. K. Simmons is terrifying, Miles Teller matches him, and the editing turns drum practice into something as tense as a heist.

What doesn’t: The movie flirts with the idea that abuse creates greatness, and Andrew’s girlfriend is written as little more than a plot point.

Who it’s for: Musicians, athletes and anyone who has ever had a coach or teacher who pushed way too hard.