Every Steven Spielberg Movie, Ranked

35. Hook (1991)

Once upon a time, Steven Spielberg tried to grow Peter Pan up, and in doing so, he may have clipped his wings. ‘Hook’ is a paradox in film form, about wonder that forgets how to actually wonder. The promise is irresistible—Robin Williams, the boy who forgot, rediscovering magic with the help of swashbuckling pirates and rambunctious Lost Boys. Yet Neverland feels like a theme park, joyless and cold, its glittering surface unable to hide the hollowness beneath. Dustin Hoffman preens as Captain Hook, chewing scenery with glee, but even he cannot save the film from its own confused heart. Spielberg aimed for enchantment, sure, but unfortunately, landed, heartbreakingly, in confusion.

34. The BFG (2016)

This is a tale of giants, dreams, and childhood whimsy, rendered with an uncanny glaze that stirs unease more than delight. Yes, Spielberg adapts Roald Dahl with tenderness, but ‘The BFG’ stumbles, lost in the uncanny valley. The giant himself, lovingly played by Mark Rylance, speaks with warmth, but his world is a blur of murky effects and meandering scenes. The pacing lags, the tension never quite arrives, and the dreamscape fails to ignite. It should have soared, should have danced among stars, instead, this gentle fable slumbers where it should have sparkled.

33. 1941 (1979)

Here is madness, and mayhem galore! A war movie that forgets the war, and remembers only the chaos. Spielberg, fresh off triumphs, attempted the impossible: a World War II slapstick epic. The result is ‘1941,’ which feels like a fever dream of destruction, absurdity, and aerial ballet. Its downfall?The story is deliriously overcooked and unhinged. It’s a comedy that feels more like calamity. But buried beneath the bombast is ambition, wild and unchecked. One can practically hear it groaning under the weight of its own frenzy, a young genius testing the limits of what spectacle can withstand before it collapses into rubble.

32. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008)

Oh, the fedora returned, the whip cracked again… But this time, it landed with a thud. ‘Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’ was to be a resurrection, but instead became a cautionary tale—what happens when legacy becomes burden. Aliens, nuked fridges, CG jungle chases—it’s all there, and yet the magic is not. There are glimmers of the old Steven Spielberg spark, particularly in the action’s rhythm, in the gleam of Harrison Ford’s eyes. But as the story slides into absurdity, the myth collapses under the weight of too much noise and too little fantasy. Still, it's no longer the worst in the saga—‘Dial of Destiny’ saw to that. So now, the 2008 entry is merely the most disappointed in itself.

31. Always (1989)

A ghost in a bomber jacket, and a love that lingers in smoke and memory. ‘Always’ is Spielberg’s tenderest, most sentimental offering, and also one of his oddest. It's a film about love beyond death, grief spun into silver wings. Richard Dreyfuss haunts the woman who has his heart not to scare her, but to help her love again. The emotions are broad, sometimes cloying, but there’s a raw sincerity here that hums beneath the melodrama. It’s Spielberg in full romantic mode, fumbling perhaps, but reaching and aching for grace.

30. Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983)

Four directors. Four windows into terror and wonder. And Spielberg’s? A flicker of wistfulness drowned out by louder screams. ‘Kick the Can’ is the softest whisper in this anthology of dread—a nostalgic fable about aging, innocence, and the magic of second chances. But in a film scarred by tragedy and remembered for shock, Spielberg’s quiet story is eclipsed. Still, there’s a warmth in it, a flicker of candlelight in the storm, one that we believe is a testament to the director’s lifelong fascination with the soul’s yearning for childhood.

29. The Terminal (2004)

With this film, the acclaimed director gave us a man without a country, living between gates and departure boards. ‘The Terminal’ is a fable built on heartbreak and hope, a post-9/11 parable that disguises its melancholy with heartwarming moments. Tom Hanks plays Viktor Navorski, a stranded traveler who becomes both resident and refugee of an airport terminal meticulously built to be its own world. Spielberg finds poetry in the in-between spaces, where the planes roar above but never land, where love lingers just out of reach. It’s not a perfect film, but like Viktor himself, it endures with quiet dignity.

28. The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997)

Lightning does not strike twice, but thunder still rolls. ‘The Lost World: Jurassic Park’ roars with spectacle, if not soul, delivering dinosaurs and destruction with brute force and panache. Jeff Goldblum steps forward, snarky and shaken, as chaos reigns once again. The film stumbles in plot but surges in scale, especially when a T. rex stomps through San Diego. It might seem like a B‑movie finale in an A‑list production. It’s bigger, louder, dumber, but also weirdly bolder. And in hindsight, with far weaker sequels trailing behind, its chaos almost feels… well, charming.

27. Ready Player One (2018)

Welcome to a sugar rush of pop culture, a digital deluge that dazzles even as it drowns. ‘Ready Player One’ is Steven Spielberg in blockbuster autopilot, remixing his own legacy inside a video game dreamscape. The OASIS is vast and wild, brimming with references, nostalgia, and kinetic chaos. But beneath the surface lies emptiness—one that hits you like a hollow longing for the very stories that once inspired real awe. Spielberg directs with command, but not conviction. It’s not bad—of course, not— just borrowed. A greatest hits tour for a master who once wrote the hits.

26. Amistad (1997)

Chains rattle, voices rise, and justice lurches slowly forward in ‘Amistad. This is Spielberg at his most solemn, maybe too much so. The story of a slave ship rebellion and its legal reckoning is mounted with care, gravitas, and moral clarity. Djimon Hounsou is a storm of anguish, and Anthony Hopkins thunders in courtroom monologues. But the film, though worthy, strains under the weight of its own importance. Spielberg’s passion is evident as always, but the film lacks the fire of righteous fury. It is a candlelit eulogy when it might have burned with rage.

25. War Horse (2011)

He is no soldier—just a horse, galloping through the fires of war. Spielberg tells the story of Joey not as an epic, but as an odyssey of the soul. From green English pastures to mud-choked trenches, ‘War Horse’ unfolds as a series of vignettes, each one touched by kindness, cruelty, and a quiet yearning for peace. The horrors of World War I are rendered with unflinching power, but also with endearment. And in Joey’s eyes, we see it all—the suffering, the beauty, the hope. The story definitely teeters on the edge of sentimentality but never falls. This is about survival through endurance, not violence.

24. Empire of the Sun (1987)

A boy loses his family, and with them, his childhood amid the vast devastation of war. ‘Empire of the Sun’ is a sweeping, mournful epic seen through the disbelieving eyes of a child, and Steven Spielberg directs it like a man haunted by the very idea of innocence shattered. Young Christian Bale, in a ferocious debut, plays Jim, a privileged British boy abandoned in Japanese-occupied Shanghai, thrust into survival, confusion, and slow erosion. The film is long, occasionally uneven, but its power is undeniable. This is never war through the eyes of generals, but we get it as remembered by a child who saw too much and understood too little… until it was too late.

23. The Post (2017)

‘The Post’ puts truth on the line as the presses tremble. And at the center, we get a woman finding her voice. This is Spielberg’s most urgent throwback—a film about yesterday that speaks directly to today. Meryl Streep, steady and shrewd, embodies quiet courage as Katherine Graham, finding the strength to stand against government and doubt alike. Tom Hanks plays Ben Bradlee as a newsroom titan with ink-stained fingers and fire in his gut. The stalwart films it all with brisk resolve. What we see is not flashy, but it thunders with purpose. The message? Print the truth, no matter the cost.

22. The Adventures of Tintin (2011)

For those who grew up reading Tintin’s adventures, you can almost picture the beloved pages turning. This movie is Spielberg returning to his roots—the boyish glee of Saturday serials, the zipping energy of escaping reality. The animation may feel strange at first, but quickly, it becomes a palette for pure movement. Ships clash on raging seas, fistfights spiral across rooftops, and dogs leap into action. This is the artist unburdened by real life, unleashed in a world where physics are suggestions and every set piece is an exclamation mark. We agree, it’s not the deepest tale Spielberg has told, but few of his ventures are this breathless, this alive, and bursting with unfiltered joy.

21. The Color Purple (1985)

Here, Steven Spielberg casts aside the spectacular to dive headfirst into the deeply human. Based on Alice Walker’s 1982 novel, ‘The Color Purple’ marked his first major foray into adult drama…and what a daring, wrenching, beautiful attempt it was! Whoopi Goldberg, striking yet restrained, plays Celie, a woman beaten down by life yet never broken. Danny Glover’s Mister is a monstrous portrait of generational cruelty, while the aching absence of the book’s full queer themes leaves a visible wound. But the soul of the movie remains radiant. The final reunion—that trembling, joyous final scene—is Spielberg’s first true symphony of heartbreak and healing. A tearjerker? Certainly, but also a deeply felt cry of dignity reclaimed.

20. The Sugarland Express (1974)

Before ‘Jaws,’ before the sci-fi spectacles, there was ‘Sugarland Express,’ which gave cinema lovers a dusty little road movie with tension as taut as a tripwire. Steven Spielberg’s first theatrical feature is undoubtedly modest, but you can still feel the pulse of a future giant in this early offering. A young couple kidnaps a cop and speeds toward oblivion, their dreams of family crumbling beneath every mile. Goldie Hawn is fierce and fragile, and the camera never stops moving, chasing something just out of reach. There’s no happy ending here…just the price of desperation, and the ache of lives that don’t get cinematic second chances.

19. War of the Worlds (2005)

They came from the sky, not to conquer but to cleanse. ‘War of the Worlds’ is terror rendered with biblical force, a vision of apocalypse rooted in the shattered psyche of post-9/11 America. Tom Cruise plays a flawed, frantic father trying to save his children, and Spielberg surrounds him with dust, ruin, and bodies that vanish into ash. The aliens are unknowable. The fear, all too real. And while the ending( mercy through microbes) may feel like a narrative trick, the emotional journey remains raw. This is our visionary Spielberg doing horror disguised as science fiction, and it chills!

18. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984)

Darkness drips from the walls of this sequel. It’s not just the cults and child slavery and literal heart-extraction, it’s the emotional undercurrent of fear, rage, and chaos. ‘Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom’ was born from a turbulent time in Spielberg’s life, and it shows. The film is sweaty, violent, and mean. but that edge gives it bite. No one can deny it’s a cursed adventure, spinning into nightmare, and yet, it remains exhilarating: mine cart chases, collapsing bridges, poisoned banquets. And in its own grim way, the film dares to take Indiana Jones somewhere new—into the underworld, into the abyss.

17. Lincoln (2012)

A film of quiet thunder, ‘Lincoln’ unfolds not on battlefields, but in dimly lit rooms where democracy hangs by a thread. Daniel Day-Lewis embodies the 16th American president with haunted gravitas, his soft-spoken resolve more powerful than any roar. Spielberg, guided by Tony Kushner’s eloquent script, crafts a portrait of politics as moral war—full of strategy, sacrifice, and soul. The supporting cast featuring Tommy Lee Jones, Sally Field, and James Spader illuminate every corner of this tense fight for justice. With dignity and drama, the film reveals not just the making of a law, but the burden of a man trying to change the world.

16. Duel (1971)

A truck, a man, a relentless pursuit. ‘Duel’ is pure cinema stripped to the bone. Don’t expect frills or safety nets; this is a showdown between man and machine on an endless highway of dread. Dennis Weaver’s everyman is hunted not by a villain with a face, but by a faceless hulk of metal and smoke. Why? Does it even matter? Spielberg’s direction is so assured, so precise, that we never question it. We just grip the wheel tighter and pray for daylight. This is tension as an art form, and we know that this movie announced Spielberg to the world like a warning shot.

15. West Side Story (2021)

Steven Spielberg reclaims a classic and electrifies it with aching beauty. ‘West Side Story’ becomes not just a retelling, but a cinematic resurrection—one that comes across as gritty, graceful, and heartbreakingly full of life. We witness Rachel Zegler and Ariana DeBose shine, the latter turning “America” into a declaration of defiance. Spielberg’s camera glides and soars, pulling every ounce of feeling from Leonard Bernstein’s score and Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics. This is more than nostalgia; it’s reinvention. The tragedy of star-crossed love, sharpened by race, pride, and place, has never felt more immediate. In his first musical, Spielberg proves again: no genre is beyond his reach. This is filmmaking in bright bloom.

14. The Fabelmans (2022)

‘The Fabelmans’ is Spielberg's tender exorcism, an autobiography wrapped in myth. Maybe the audience wasn’t expecting it, but we got a film where the famed director dared to place himself in the story, brimming with vulnerability. It’s not just about filmmaking; it’s about the cost of chasing dreams, the ache of broken families, and the wonder of light through celluloid. Gabriel LaBelle shines as the Spielberg surrogate, and Michelle Williams gives a performance of enchanting sorrow as a mother torn between freedom and duty. It’s a love letter, yes, but also a confession. The boy who pointed a camera at the world finally turned it inward. And what he found was… himself.

13. Bridge of Spies (2015)

‘Bridge of Spies’ may not roar, but it resonates. This is a film of quiet courage exploring moral clarity. The story thrusts us into the Cold War, but it’s not told with gunfire. Here is negotiation, compromise, and faith in human decency. Tom Hanks, in one of his finest late-career performances, stands in the storm as James Donovan, an ordinary man thrust into history. Mark Rylance, soft-spoken and unflappable, steals scenes. Spielberg captures it all with classical restraint, as if to say: true bravery is not in the battlefield…but in the courtroom, in diplomacy, in doing what’s right, even when no one’s watching.

12. Minority Report (2002)

The future is sleek, and broken. In ‘Minority Report,’ Spielberg peers ahead and sees a world where choice has been erased in the name of safety. Yeah, we see a prison of predictions on screen. Tom Cruise is in top form, running from a crime he hasn’t committed (yet), pursued by fate and jetpack-cops alike. The visuals are startling and the action dynamic, however, the dread runs deep. What if free will is just an illusion? What if justice is the real villain? This is no mere thriller. It’s prophecy. And the movie feels more real with every passing year.

11. Catch Me If You Can (2002)

‘Catch Me If You Can’ is Spielberg’s lightest caper and yet one of his most personal, drawn with jazz and shadows. We see a dance of deception, a chase of hearts, but through Spielberg’s genius, this con–artist story turns into a high-wire act of longing and disguise. Leonardo DiCaprio charms as Frank Abagnale Jr., a youth fleeing loneliness, forging checks and his own identity. Tom Hanks counters as the dogged FBI agent who becomes surrogate father instead of predator. Their cat-and-mouse game is a bittersweet lament for belonging. In the end, all Frank Abagnale wants… is to go home. A compassionate victory for Spielberg!

10. Munich (2005)

In the shadow of vengeance, Steven Spielberg delivers a requiem for violence. ‘Munich’ is cold, calculated, and its claustrophobic affairs are carried out in cigarette-lit rooms and anonymous streets. Eric Bana’s Avner is hunter and haunted, the weight of retribution etched into every crease of his face. As bombs echo and bullets collect in rain-slicked alleys, Spielberg asks a question that looms large: Can violence ever break its spiral? The answer masterfully seeps through in weary betrayals. This is a film that trembles as much in explosions as it does in conscience.

9. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

This one echoes the line between heroism and legend. ‘Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade’ reunites Indy with his dad (Sean Connery) casting their banter and grudging admiration across desert ruins and relic-laden catacombs. Spielberg transcends throwaway adventure here; the chase for the Holy Grail becomes a search for paternal approval, for legacy, for truth. There’s humour in abundance, but we also understand the gravity: when a father and son must choose faith or fear. It’s a testament of Spielberg’s brilliance how he makes that choice feel mythic.

8. Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)

This Steven Spielberg masterpiece is not an alien invasion, it’s a human longing. The first contact is dread and wonder, a chorus of note and noise that climbs to the heavens. Richard Dreyfuss is a man consumed by something he can’t name. The suburban lights flicker, the static hums like a heartbeat, and the night sky pulses with possibility. When those colossal mothership bulbs finally blaze to life, so too does our own craving: a need to know, to believe, to transcend. Spielberg doesn’t just direct contact, he scripts a spiritual awakening.

7. A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001)

Stanley Kubrick’s ghost haunts this film, and Steven Spielberg, grieving his friend and mentor, picks up the pieces and shapes something strange, soulful, and coldly luminous. What is more innocent—a child that bleeds, or a boy of metal who cries? ‘A.I. Artificial Intelligence’ is a futuristic fairy tale about a robot boy who only wants to be loved—something of a twisted Pinocchio wandering a decaying, post-human Earth. Haley Joel Osment gives a performance so unsettlingly perfect it barely feels human. The film is enigmatic, divisive, too long, too weird, but also beautiful in its sadness. That ending? Not a happy one, no matter what it looks like. It’s a requiem for love, for childhood, and for the human race itself.

6. Saving Private Ryan (1998)

The earth shakes and the sea turns blood-red in this Spielberg venture that leads viewers straight into the mouth of war. Omaha Beach is suffering incarnate. Every scream, silent prayer—all of it barreling toward the doomsday question: What do we owe each other in the face of death? Tom Hanks becomes the reluctant shepherd, guiding a mess of soldiers through hell to retrieve one lost man. Tears gleam with mud, bravery tastes like blood, and when we stare at the grave, Spielberg demands a reckoning.

5. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

This is where the boulder rolls and Indiana Jones is born—forged in dusty tombs and Nazi hideouts. Steven Spielberg doesn’t just recreate the adventure serials of old, he infuses them with modern myth. Every shot is kinetic poetry: Indy darting through temple traps, exchanging quips amidst chaos, and hoisting relics as if they were destiny. The Ark’s final glow looks supernatural, but it’s also Spielberg’s own manifesto: cinema is not museum art. It is eruption and joy that create legend.

4. Jaws (1975)

The water stays still, and sunlight dances on the surface until it breaks and devouring begins. Spielberg’s first blockbuster a shark movie, sure, but it’s also a surgical strike on complacency. Every gasp from the audience is mirrored in the flicker of Martin Brody’s eyes, the twitch of his jaw. Quint’s monologue is folklore. The shark is elemental fear made flesh. With this film that sent ripples across the globe, Spielberg taught us to fear the things beneath us—and to respect the darkness in all innocence.

3. Jurassic Park (1993)

The biggest lesson here is that life finds a way, and Spielberg shows it to us with bone-rattling, prehistoric clarity. The gates swing open, drizzle slicks the skin of a Brachiosaurus, and we weep. This is no cheap thrill; it's a sermon on overreach, reverence, and the hubris of science meddling with nature. Everywhere, there is beauty as well as terror: the raptors in the kitchen, the T. rex in the storm. With ‘Jurassic Park,’ Spielberg resurrects dinosaurs in a cinematic move that changed film history forever.

2. E.T. the Extra‑Terrestrial (1982)

A finger glows blue. A bicycle lifts into stars. And we are all moved to salute Spielberg as he reminds us that miracles still happen… All it takes is belief. ‘E.T. the Extra‑Terrestrial’ is childhood dreams coming true. The suburban night becomes a cathedral, every shot is a note in a lullaby, and every word from that little alien hits the right spot like a hymn. This film built a sanctuary, and within its bounds, we remembered how to feel again.

1. Schindler’s List (1993)

There are shades of gray, but only one pair of red shoes. Steven Spielberg’s watershed isn’t just history captured…it’s humanity amputated, then stitched back together in defiance. Liam Neeson’s Oskar Schindler, the industrialist turned savior, moves through Auschwitz like a reluctant saint. He bargains, he bleeds, he buys lives. The camera pans the list, the survivors, and the haunting skyline of Kraków. There is no music here, only the sound of footsteps—some fleeing, some arriving, all echoing faith, fear, and tremor. Spielberg doesn’t ask us to watch this war epic. He asks us to bear witness to humanity’s darkest chapter.