Only 10 Movies From the ’70s Are Truly Perfect From Start to Finish



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An evolution spearheaded by the American New Wave movement that started in the late ’60s defined the ensuing decade. The 1970s were an era of broadening horizons, technical innovation, censorship defiance, and bold and brazen perfection. The greatest movies of the time have become timelessly iconic not only for their storytelling prowess, but for their revolutionary impact on the medium as well, ushering in a new standard of realism that was often as challenging as it was captivating.

From landmark horror movies to early pioneers of blockbuster cinema, masterpieces that continue to define genres to this day, and even a couple of classics that might just mark the two greatest movies ever made, these gems of 1970s cinema are the epitome of perfection in the form. Given the variety of genres, the assembly of legendary filmmakers, and the sheer cultural standing of the pictures included, this list is as much a testament to the soaring heights of 1970s cinema as it is a tribute to the individual movies that feature.

‘The Texas Chain Saw Massacre’ (1974)

Leatherface raising his chainsaw in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre Image via Bryanston Distributing Company

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre may not often be considered in the pantheon of perfect pictures by many. However, the atmospheric low-budget triumph has endured for decades as a feverish and frightful descent into slasher horror that, in many respects, pioneered the subgenre as we know it today. Complimented by its sharp and efficient screenplay and documentary-style camerawork, it follows five friends in rural Texas who detour to visit the elderly relatives of one of their posse takes a terrifying turn when they are hunted by a chainsaw-wielding murderer and his psychotic family.

Even 52 years on, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre remains unsurpassed in horror cinema regarding its viscerally realistic quality. It is violently raw, with everything from the rough graininess of the film stock to the focused and logical plotting of its 83-minute runtime imbuing it with a coarse authenticity that can be quite sickening. Couple this unnerving intensity with the succinct delivery, ceaseless suspense, and Leatherface’s (Gunnar Hansen) horrifying design, and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is an early masterpiece of horror and an essential reason why the genre has been so grueling and graphic over the past 50 years.

‘Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope’ (1977)

Luke, Leia, and Han Solo stand in a corridor calmly in the midst of escaping in Star Wars: A New Hope Image by Lucasfilm

While 1980’s legendary sequel may attract much of the attention when people discuss the original Star Wars trilogy today, there is no doubt that the space opera saga got off to a magnificent start with 1977’s Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. Combining elements of B-movie sci-fi, spaghetti Western cinema, Japan’s samurai films, and epic adventure, it delivers a sharp and rewarding story filled with stunning set pieces, fantastical locations, and a plethora of iconic characters to embody the birth of blockbuster spectacle in earnest.

There isn’t a single aspect of the film that ceases to be faultless. Everything from John Williams’s unforgettable score to the detail of the production, the fiery nuance of the character dynamics, and the airtight pacing of the story works in tandem to conjure not only an instant classic of Hollywood cinema, but an enduring masterpiece as well. It still stands as one of the most universally beloved and widely seen movies ever made, and it will forever be emblematic of the growing commercial significance of cinema throughout the 1970s.

‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ (1975)

Will Sampson as Chief Bromden embraces Jack Nicholson as Randle in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. 
Will Sampson as Chief Bromden embraces Jack Nicholson as Randle in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
Image via Pioneer Entertainment

One of only three movies to have swept the “Big Five” at the Academy Awards, and a timeless triumph that works as both a character-driven drama and a thematic parable, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is enshrined in the greatest movies of all time. Based on Ken Kesey’s novel, it follows social reprobate Randall Patrick McMurphy (Jack Nicholson), who is committed to a mental institution. As he hopes to rally his fellow patients in the hope of escape, he finds a nemesis in the cruel Nurse Ratchet (Louise Fletcher).

Bolstered by the brilliance of the two lead performances, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest presents a richly intriguing analysis of human freedom and the lengths those in power will go to in order to maintain control. It expresses both the vigor of rebellion and the harmful oppression of institutions in invigorating fashion, a testament to its writing, direction, and performances that still, more than 50 years on, stands as a faultless drama.































































Collider Exclusive · Oscar Best Picture Quiz
Which Oscar Best Picture
Is Your Perfect Movie?

Parasite · Everything Everywhere · Oppenheimer · Birdman · No Country

Five Oscar Best Picture winners. Five completely different visions of what cinema can be — and what it can do to you. One of them is the film that was made for the way your mind works. Ten questions will figure out which one.

🪜Parasite

🌀Everything Everywhere

☢️Oppenheimer

🐦Birdman

🪙No Country for Old Men

01

What kind of film experience do you actually want?
The best movies don’t just entertain — they leave something behind.





02

Which idea grabs you most in a film?
Great films are driven by a central obsession. What’s yours?





03

How do you like your story told?
Form is content. The way a story is shaped changes what it means.





04

What makes a truly great antagonist?
The opposition defines the protagonist. What kind of opposition fascinates you?





05

What do you want from a film’s ending?
The final note is the one that lingers. What do you want it to sound like?





06

Which setting pulls you in most?
Where a film takes place shapes everything — mood, stakes, what’s even possible.





07

What cinematic craft impresses you most?
Every great film has a signature — a technical or artistic element that makes it unmistakable.





08

What kind of main character do you root for?
The protagonist is the lens. Who you choose to follow says something about you.





09

How do you feel about a film that takes its time?
Pace is a choice. Some films sprint; others let tension accumulate slowly, deliberately.





10

What do you want to feel walking out of the cinema?
The best films leave a mark. What kind of mark do you want?





The Academy Has Decided
Your Perfect Film Is…

Your answers have pointed to one Oscar Best Picture winner above all others. This is the film that was made for the way your mind works.

Parasite

You are drawn to films that operate on multiple levels simultaneously — that begin in one genre and quietly, brilliantly migrate into another. Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite is a film about class, desire, and the architecture of inequality that manages to be darkly funny, deeply suspenseful, and genuinely shocking across a single extraordinary running time. Your instinct is for cinema that hides its true intentions until the moment it’s ready to reveal them. Parasite is exactly that — a film that rewards close attention and punishes assumptions, right up to its devastating final image.

Everything Everywhere All at Once

You want it all — and this film gives you all of it. The Daniels’ Everything Everywhere All at Once is one of the most maximalist films ever made: action comedy, multiverse sci-fi, family drama, existential crisis, and a genuinely earned emotional core that sneaks up on you amid the chaos. You are someone who responds to ambition, who doesn’t want cinema to choose between being entertaining and being meaningful. This film refuses that choice entirely. It is overwhelming by design, and its overwhelming nature is precisely the point — because the feeling of being crushed by infinite possibility is exactly what it’s about.

Oppenheimer

You are drawn to cinema on a grand scale — films that understand history not as a backdrop but as a force, and that place their characters inside that force and watch what happens. Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer is a film about the terrifying gap between what we can do and what we should do, told with the full weight of one of the most consequential moments in human history behind it. You want your films to feel important without feeling self-important — to earn their ambition through sheer craft and the gravity of their subject. Oppenheimer does exactly that. It is enormous, complicated, and refuses easy comfort.

Birdman

You are drawn to films that foreground their own construction — that make the how of the filmmaking part of the what it’s about. Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Birdman, shot to appear as a single continuous take, is cinema examining itself through the cracked mirror of a fading actor’s ego. You respond to formal daring, to the feeling that a film is doing something that probably shouldn’t be possible. Michael Keaton’s performance and Emmanuel Lubezki’s restless camera create something genuinely unlike anything else — a film that is simultaneously about creativity, relevance, self-destruction, and the impossibility of ever truly knowing if your work means anything at all.

No Country for Old Men

You are drawn to cinema that trusts silence, that refuses to explain itself, and that treats dread as a form of meaning. The Coen Brothers’ No Country for Old Men is a film about the arrival of a new kind of evil — implacable, arbitrary, and utterly indifferent to the moral frameworks we use to make sense of the world. It is one of the most formally controlled films ever made, and its controlled restraint is what makes it so terrifying. You want your films to haunt you, not comfort you. You are not interested in resolution if resolution would be dishonest. No Country for Old Men is honest in a way that most cinema never dares to be.

‘Stalker’ (1979)

Two men walking in Stalker Image via Goskino

Slow, cerebral, and suspended in a pervasive air of meditative curiosity and dignified maturity, Stalker represents sci-fi cinema at its most thought-provoking and thematically mindful. Directed by Soviet Union filmmaking legend Andrei Tarkovsky, it unfolds in a post-apocalyptic future as a scholar and an artist are guided through a hazardous wasteland to a restricted zone where they can find a room that supposedly grants the innermost desire of those who enter it.

The 161-minute epic functions less as a picture of propulsive narrative drive and more as a lingering contemplation on the human condition and the problematic state of the relationship between industrial progress and nature. Faith, desire, memory, and life itself are dissected through the characters’ journey, while the slow-moving and almost poetic eye of the camera is designed to encourage unique interpretations. Even today, Stalker strikes viewers as a hypnotic exercise in evocative cinema, an enrapturing descent into philosophically-charged storytelling that continues to inspire debate, discussion, and new readings nearly 50 years on from its release.

‘Taxi Driver’ (1976)

Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) stands in a street in sunglasses and a rough mohawk in 'Taxi Driver' (1976).
Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) stands in a street in sunglasses and a rough mohawk in ‘Taxi Driver’ (1976).
Image via Columbia Pictures

A challenging and provocative character study that has become one of the most iconic pictures ever made, Taxi Driver captures director Martin Scorsese at his impactful best. A haunting and squeamishly unnerving meditation on social alienation, festering vigilantism, and urban decay, it follows New York taxi driver and Vietnam War veteran Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) as his simmering and violent hatred for the world around him threatens to clash with a mayoral campaign and an underage prostitute.

Powered by De Niro’s immaculate performance that pushes beyond captivating authenticity to achieve a uniquely disconcerting form of vulnerable, unfiltered reality, Taxi Driver excels as a skewering of American ideals of violence and heroism. Complimented by a stunning visual display, Paul Schrader’s unflinching screenplay, and an outstanding conclusion that reaffirms its observation of how brutality is viewed in society, Taxi Driver is an atmospheric masterpiece that defines the visceral grit and psychological wrath of 1970s cinema at its groundbreaking best.

‘Barry Lyndon’ (1975)

A group of men sitting together in Barry Lyndon
A passed out Barry Lyndon (Ryan O’Neal) sits slouched in a chair as the remnants of the prior night’s party murmur behind him and, before him, stands the displeased Lord Bullingdon (Leon vitali) in ‘Barry Lyndon’ (1975).
Image via Warner Bros.

Quite possibly the single most gorgeous movie ever made, Barry Lyndon is one of cinema’s most divine visual treats, a tragic epic of ambition, class, and opportunism that is always made enrapturing by the majesty of its cinematography. Meticulously directed by Stanley Kubrick, it follows the swaying fortunes of an exiled Irish rogue as he drifts between allegiances and services amid the turmoil of 18th-century Europe. Enchanting a rich widow, he cheats his way to the cusp of aristocracy, but his scandalous ways could be his undoing.

While it is universally heralded as a picture of unprecedented beauty, many are of the opinion that its pacing leaves something to be desired. However, Barry Lyndon’s litany of twists and turns through Redmond Barry’s (Ryan O’Neal) journey of shifting circumstances and advantageous pluck makes for a ceaselessly compelling three-hour spectacle. Often subtly humorous, always richly extravagant, and ever tinged with an inflection of inevitability, Barry Lyndon is entrenched in the conversation of being Kubrick’s greatest ever film, and is a lasting embodiment of cinematic spectacle in all its purist, most awe-inspiring glory.

‘Alien’ (1979)

Sigourney Weaver as Lieut. Ellen Ripley aboard a spacecraft in the science-fiction–horror film Alien.
Sigourney Weaver as Lieut. Ellen Ripley aboard a spacecraft in the science-fiction–horror film Alien.
Image via 20th Century Studios

A faultless convergence of sci-fi futurism and chilling horror, Alien is a rare film in that it stands as a defining masterpiece of two separate genres. Its immaculate, finely-crafted worldbuilding immerses viewers in a vision of the future that feels lived-in, grimy, and authentic, while Sir Ridley Scott’s command of suspense, humanity, and sheer terror makes for a movie of unrivaled tension. It follows the crew of the USCSS Nostromo as they respond to a distress signal in deep space and find themselves hunted by an alien on their ship.

The film’s enduring horror is defined by the dread of the xenomorph, the masterful creation of H. R. Giger that still stands tall among the greatest movie monsters of all time. Alien is a masterclass in patient suspense, ingenious worldbuilding, and imposing atmospheric unease. Even today, the 1979 classic remains a feat of art design, creature creation, and chilling sci-fi/horror coldness that is absolutely perfect from its measured start through to its manic conclusion.

‘Chinatown’ (1974)

Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway talking in a car with the top down in Chinatown.
Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway talking in a car in Chinatown.
Image via Paramount Pictures

Written by Robert Towne, Chinatown is often credited as being the single greatest screenplay ever written. A masterclass in detail, efficiency, and precision, it remains completely within the protagonist’s perspective, subverting film noir tropes with razor-sharp thematic ideals and delivering an exceptionally enthralling mystery. The film has several other flawless qualities as well, from the intrigue and poise of the performances to the arresting realization of 1930s Los Angeles, and its piercing analysis of corruption, power, and politics.

Gritty and cynical, even as far as film noir goes, it follows private investigator Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) when what appears to be a simple case of adultery quickly embroils him in a conspiracy of murder, influence, and status amid the California water wars. Contrary to many Hollywood films that feature a resolute hero triumphing over the system, Chinatown flaunts a hard-edged maturity that has seen it remain bitterly timeless, with its iconic final words becoming a somber symbol of grim acceptance of the ugly nature of social hierarchy and the immunity of the wealthy and powerful.

‘The Godfather’ (1972) & ‘The Godfather Part II’ (1974)

Compressing two independently great movies into one entry may be cheating a little, but both The Godfather and its dashing sequel The Godfather Part II endure not only as two of the most defining movies of the ‘70s, but as two of the greatest pictures of all time. The first one focuses on a transition of power within the Corleone crime family, with the aging Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando) trying to convince his reluctant son, Michael (Al Pacino), to succeed him. The second film uses the full breadth of its 222-minute runtime to follow Michael’s efforts to expand his crime empire and, decades earlier, young Vito’s (Robert De Niro) rise to prominence in the New York underworld.

Blending elements of classic Greek tragedy with the revolutionary punch of ‘70s cinematic grit, both films deliver awe-inspiring spectacles of power, violence, and the morality of the American dream shrouded in stunning, shadowy visuals. Both films present one of cinema’s greatest ever arcs, the tragic evolution of Michael Corleone from a moral war hero to an isolated and ruthless mob boss who has lost everyone, making the entire six-hour spectacle the quintessential viewing experience in American cinematic history and the defining triumph of film in the 1970s.

‘Jaws’ (1975)

Roy Scheider waving and yelling in Jaws Image via Universal Pictures

Steven Spielberg was one of the defining spearheads of New Hollywood, and there has arguably been no movie throughout the director’s illustrious career that has highlighted his genius quite like Jaws. Blurring the line between heart-stopping horror suspense and rollicking adventure entertainment, it transpires as a rampaging great white shark picks off beachgoers during the holiday season in Amity Island. With the mayor reluctant to close the beaches due to the community’s financial reliance on tourism, the responsibility of keeping the people safe falls to the local sheriff, a marine biologist, and a seasoned shark hunter.

From its opening moments, Jaws is a masterclass in nerve-rattling suspense, with John Williams’s simple yet impactful score combining with Spielberg’s ability to only tease the image of the shark, making for a horror experience of uncommon restraint. In addition to being a masterfully told story with several unforgettable sequences and a trio of great characters, Jaws also pioneered blockbuster cinema as audiences know it today, with its high-concept excitement and its wide theatrical release strategy breaking new ground for cinema as a commercial and cultural property.

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Ryan Heffernan
Almontather Rassoul

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