Whiplash

Goddamn... every FUCKING time this movie hits exactly the same or better. One of the greatest (if not the greatest) final sequences to a film I can think of. The sort of cautionary tale of an artist losing himself to his art and the bittersweetness of the final shots make this an all-timer. Every artist I know understand and can relate to Andrew. every single one of them. and every single one of them fucking hates Fletcher BUT also understands him (and maybe wishes they had their own Fletcher in their lives). To me, these are the marks of a a film that will be hailed a bona fide classic in the decades to come.