Not Quite My Tempo — Whiplash and the Cost of Great

A war film with cymbals Whiplash is edited like combat: sweat, blood on the snare, cuts timed to rim-shots. By the final Caravan, you're not watching a concert — you're watching a duel. The genius of the ending is that it gives Fletcher exactly what he wanted while letting Andrew lose everything a person should keep. Ebert would have called it what it is: a horror film about excellence.