The Films of Francis Ford Coppola, Ranked
An attempt at ranking the New Hollywood hotshot's wild & varied filmography
With the release of his life-long passion project Megalopolis finally here, Francis Ford Coppola continues to echo history. There are countless films among his filmography that fall into the same category of “he risked it all, went into debt, pushed the limits of the medium, suffered for it, only to be vindicated decades later.” It’s fascinating to see him so constantly doubted, although, in seeing the inconsistency of these passion projects, it makes a bit more sense.
A challenge I encountered while watching and writing about his work is, well, his fame. The name Coppola is synonymous with some of the greatest films ever made, synonymous with genius in the medium, synonymous with radically changing the landscape of the American film industry. It’s a daunting task to even approach any of these films with a fresh perspective considering the decades of writing and critical appreciation of his work, deciding for millions of first-year film students exactly why they should love The Godfather so much.
Even so, there are somehow still hidden gems to be found in his career, particularly in his most derided periods. As his career reached a professional nadir at the beginning of the 80s, Coppola was unbound from expectation leading to a radical period of experimentation in that decade, oscillating between commercial and experimental fare. Furthermore, his independent digital features of the 2000s are fascinating, more akin to George Lucas’ Star Wars prequels that most would care to admit. Constantly ahead of the curve, he sometimes suffered as a result of this revolution as his contemporaries arrived late to territory he had already explored, not having the weather the challenges he did.
One of the great parts about going through his filmography, and I mean this sincerely, is that it imbues Coppola with a fallibility. Too easy is it to fall into the mythology of the maestro who made the Godfathers and wrestled a great film out of the catastrophe of making Apocalypse Now, then discard the next 40 years of his career. He is, instead, simply a man, warts and all. He may have an innate sense of filmmaking, much like all the greats, but he is also imperfect, letting his personal interests, desires, and fascinations take over and lead him in ways that range from outstandingly successful to wildly destructive.
In other words, he is an artist, true and true, forever wrestling with the capitalist systems in which his art must be made. The experimental filmmaker fighting against the populist filmmaker, never quite letting one win out over the other.
With that, here are the films of Francis Ford Coppola, ranked:
24. Tonight for Sure (1962)
While charitable at best to list this along with even the worst of Coppola’s films, this is worth noting at the very least as one of the many places where he would cut his teeth. Tonight for Sure, along with Battle Beyond the Sun and The Bellboy and Playgirls, is a C-Movie exploitation film that uses the Corman method of re-editing existing projects into something new so they can be released on the cheap for a minor profit. It’s maybe as close as one can get to making an entire feature about boobs alone, featuring little to no examples of the instinct young Coppola clearly possesses.
23. You’re a Big Boy Now (1966)
Moving up the ranks, Coppola’s first film to be distributed by a major studio is, in short, a bit of a disaster. It’s not a mess in the way that something like the production of Apocalypse Now might be called, but more in the way that it is a tonally imbalanced mishmash of counter-culture comedy made within a rigid, conservative system. All attempts at comedy fall flat, all the heightened performances sting with the complete lack of awareness, and, while objectively comprehensible on a plot level, one wishes it wasn’t.
22. Jack (1996)
Often listed among the worst films a major director ever made, Jack is quite simply confounding. Why Coppola would jump from the back-to-back hits of The Godfather: Part III and Bram Stoker’s Dracula to a broad, high-concept studio comedy is beyond me. Robin Williams plays a young boy whose body grows 4 times as fast as his brain. So, when the film takes place, he is a 40-year-old man playing a 10-year-old. It plays exactly like it sounds. While I don’t think it’s an abomination, it is certainly below the skills of someone like Coppola, not to mention that he is completely unable to decide whether this should be an out-and-out comedy or a heartfelt dramedy, aiming between both targets and missing both.
21. Gardens of Stone (1987)
Even with something of a spiritual link to John Ford’s far-superior The Long Grey Line, Gardens of Stone takes a great cast and does little with it, muddling its politics & timeline to make something that is neither satisfying in its story nor its emotion. It’s the first of Coppola’s for-hire jobs to feel completely uninterested in its material, not even feigning any sort of experimental approach or attempt at elevating the classicism that is clearly there. Unfortunately, a bore and nothing more.
20. Finian’s Rainbow (1968)
If nothing else, Coppola is largely unable to make a boring movie. That’s not to say Finian’s Rainbow is good, or even entertaining in the traditional sense, it’s just devoid of safe choices. Featuring an aging Fred Astaire against a garishly designed backdrop and a plot involving leprechauns, corrupt governments, and racism, the film is shock after shock of content that has either poorly aged or couldn’t have possibly even been a good idea at the time. Fascinatingly and confoundingly, this is one of the Coen Brothers’ favourite films.
19. Twixt (2011)
The least of Coppola’s late career digital art films, largely due to the often amateur vibe that permeates an otherwise engaging story. It’s entirely possible this could be a result of the as-of-yet unrefined digital aesthetic that hadn’t become commonplace at this stage, or it could be because of the performances that feel all out of whack, but either way this fails to fully tap into the emotion that is clearly at the core of the story. As with many of these films, however, there is a recent re-cut that awaits further viewing, quite possibly leading to a total re-evaluation on my part.
18. Dementia 13 (1963)
Perhaps more appropriately listed as Coppola’s directorial debut proper, Dementia 13 is a Roger Corman-produced horror film that serves as one of many in a long line of future masters of cinema being given the reins to show their chops on a low-budget B-movie. There’s not exactly anything to write home about, nor is there anything that showcases any exceptional prowess behind the camera, but it is functional, fairly engaging, and well-directed. You can’t exactly ask for much more from a Corman picture.
17. Megalopolis (2024)
Forty years in the making, and it shows. Just about every idea Coppola had for this gargantuan project over its entire development cycle feels like it shows up somewhere in the film. It’s an unreal mash-up that somehow feels like high and low art at the same time, genius and stupid, forward-thinking and regressive. There’s sure to be a major backlash against how odd this whole thing feels, with the unreachable expectations of Maestro Coppola returning for one more masterpiece unmet. It won’t be until years later that we truly understand the full impact of the film, on us, on others, and how time will react to the unorthodox approach the whole project took on.
16. Tetro (2009)
The second of Coppola’s late-period films, he eschews much of his formal experimentation—but not all!—in favour of highlighting three pretty terrific performances. Vincent Gallo, Alden Erenreich, and Maribel Verdú are all given lots of room to inhabit their characters and the surroundings, all the way until Coppola’s filmmaker instincts burst through the dam that was barely holding them at bay. Even with all these positive aspects, I must cop to the fact that I just didn’t entirely find this engaging. All the elements are there, but they don’t totally coalesce to create something satisfying, nor mistifyingly gonzo either.
15. The Cotton Club (1984)
Even amongst all the Coppola projects that went over budget and over schedule, The Cotton Club might be the most intense. Made in 1984 for a budget of $58 million—or a staggering $175 million in 2024—the film attempts to map the rise and fall of a cast of characters in early-30s Harlem, specifically how their lives and loves intertwine with the titular Cotton Club. Even with its seemingly significant “Encore” re-cut, this remains completely devoid of any and all emotion or life, left to twaddle along in one of the most beautifully rendered worlds of the 80s. Seriously, all of the overages and expenses are eminently visible on the screen, with outstanding design in all respects. It’s worth watching for that reason alone, just don’t expect a masterpiece out of the mess like some of Coppola’s other projects.
14. One From the Heart (1982)
This has become an object of admiration for many in the last few years, the latest of Coppola’s films that people argue is a secret masterpiece, as well as the most recent of his films to receive a major re-edit. In my opinion, however, this is so enamored with its absolutely outstanding formal approach that it leaves much to be desired for its story. Throughout its life, this film has been compared to Scorsese’s similarly excessive New Hollywood musical, New York, New York. But, what Scorsese gets right about his tale of two lovers who don’t belong together is… well… they don’t belong together. Over and over, we are shown that the two lead characters of One From the Heart are not right for each other, even showcasing the inimitably charming Raul Julia as another possible suitor, and yet the film chooses to believe that love conquers all. A powerful statement, but one that leaves me more depressed at that concept than uplifted.
13. The Godfather: Part III (1990)
Tasked with the impossible duty of following up—let me check my notes here…—the first two Godfather films, Part III does its best with weaker material and weaker actors, but ultimately can’t ascend to the heights that its name suggests. Only in the final opera sequence do we see the skill and precision that we all know Coppola possesses, ratcheting tension until it bursts with, well… operatic aplomb. The rest of the film is just deeply inconsistent, moving between genuinely moving sequences of Pacino, Keaton, and Shire reflecting on their old age and the pain they’ve been through, and an uninteresting plot that tries to bring in some new blood to disastrous effects—and, to be clear, I’m not even talking about Sofia Coppola here necessarily but rather Andy Garcia who oscillates between over and under-acting to a delirious degree.
12. The Rain People (1969)
The first real “Coppola” film, no longer bound by the Corman B-movie system or the outdated studio system trying to push a new generation filmmaker into tired boxes. The Rain People is still not firing on all cylinders, but it speaks to Coppola’s general filmmaking style—and the circumstances in which he often creates his best work—that this was made under strict circumstances, traveling across the country with a small, non-union crew and, at the time, unproven actors. It’s not a masterpiece by any means, but rather a crucial stepping stone in the development of one of America’s most important auteurs.
11. Peggy Sue Got Married (1986)
Released just one year after the smash-hit time travel movie Back to the Future, Peggy Sue Got Married is not the well-oiled, finely tuned machine of the former, but rather something messier, and more emotional, altogether. Yes, it has Nicolas Cage in a giant nose doing a nasely voice, but it also has Kathleen Turner giving an unbelievably vulnerable performance as a woman who is given the chance to go back on her biggest regrets, giving her the space and depth to really consider this choice and all it entails. It speaks volumes to me that Jonathan Demme, my favourite filmmaker, was once attached to make this movie. Once you know that, you see his fingerprints all over it, even in small doses. The emotional depth that is lended to the titular Peggy Sue is not typical of Coppola’s female characters, but does offer him a chance to step out of his comfort zone—even if that means he’s often bumping up against the movie that’s written and the movie he’s trying to make.
10. The Rainmaker (1997)
As of now, the last of Coppola’s for-hire jobs, using the rising star of the moment, Matt Damon in the lead role of a John Grisham adaptation. It checks off all the boxes needed to be a reasonable box office success—though nothing major—and simply sees Coppola using an unshowy approach, never drawing attention to itself or its inner machinations. It’s closer to Peggy Sue Got Married than anything else in his oeuvre, largely focusing on the people that the capitalist systems in the United States exploit. Even if the thematics shoot for slightly above their weight class, the film itself knows exactly what it is and never tries to be anything more, retaining a sturdiness the whole way through.
9. Youth Without Youth (2007)
Bewilderingly insane—the film’s plot concerns an old man in the 1930s who is struck by lightning, thereby granting him supernatural powers including aging backwards, which then makes him the target of Nazi recuirters… oh and did I mention this was also primarily a love story?—but completely in line with all of Coppola’s interests and methods. After a 10-year break from directing, he returned to the form with his first of, currently, four independently financed films seeking to destroy and reconstruct the very notion of what a modern movie could be. As uneven as it can be, it’s moving to see a director so enamoured with what he’s doing, pouring all he can into a project. It’s quite well complimented by Elearnor Coppola’s documentary Coda: Thirty Years Later, as well, charting the ethos and atmosphere of the project during its production.
8. Tucker: The Man and His Dream (1988)
If I had to take a bet on which Coppola film would receive a critical re-evaluation next, I’d put my money on Tucker: The Man and His Dream. It’s maybe as close to an autobiography as Coppola ever got, projecting his mania and artistic furvour onto the titular character as he faces up against an established capitalist system while trying to re-define the automobile. The film moves with such energy that, when viewed chronologically at this point in his career, is such a breath of fresh air. This was, at the time, Coppola’s major unmade film, a script he’d been developing for at least a decade, always pushed down the line as the next project on his docket. It can’t quite keep up the fervent pace that it begins with, but it’s lovely all the same, an essential piece of the puzzle in understanding the filmmaker’s relationship to creation, family, and where the two intersect.
7. Rumble Fish (1983)
One of two S.E. Hinton adaptation that Coppola directed within a single year, Rumble Fish stands quite separately from the classicism of The Outsiders, instead going for a much more experimental, art film approach. Like many of these 80s film, the film is gorgeous, utilizing the stark shadows that come from filming in black-and-white to heighten and highlight the modern noir that is the street life of these young roughnecks. There isn’t a whole lot to latch onto, however, if you’re not completely enamoured with this approach, seeing as the actual plot itself is quite lacking. But, if you can let go of the need for a traditional story and just let yourself flow with the story, it’s an extremely special experience.
6. The Outsiders (1983)
I will cop to the fact that this film’s placement on the list is a reaction more to the emotion The Outsiders wrings out of me more than it’s actual quality. If I were to look with the most objective lens—as if that’s a real thing—I’d criticize the speed at which the plot unfolds, especially as compared to the uneven pacing that brings a bit of a jolt-y stop and start nature. But… if I’m being true to myself, I can’t help but recognize the pure warmth that emanates the relationships between all the young men in the film. I hadn’t seen this film since I originally read the book, way back in the sixth grade, but found it all the more potent even still. Just thinking about the scene in which Ponyboy and Johnny watch the completely artificial sunset makes me verklempt in a way defies actual logic. A personal choice to place this so highly, but it’s my list at the end of the day.
5. The Conversation (1974)
Here’s where the list starts to become more difficult to talk about. Not for lack of quality in the films—it’s the top of the list, of course—but because these are some of the most discussed, praised, and analyzed films in the last 50 years of American pop culture. While perhaps the least praised of Coppola’s 70s run, it is by no means underpraised or underappreciated. Beyond packing a wallop of an ending and boasting a terrific Gene Hackman performance, the most amazing thing about The Conversation is its prescience. An entire world of constant surveillance, constant worrying about who is listening in,
4. Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)
A beautiful, gothic re-telling of the classic story with a decidedly psychosexual twist, removing all sub-text and elevating it to become just plain text. One could very well launch certain criticisms toward the story or pacing but, to me, none of that matters so much when the film is drop-dead gorgeous. Every trick Coppola has is used in full force as he blends in-camera trickery, matte paintings, miniatures, and make-up to create the very manifestation of an ornate Victorian book cover come to life. So much writing on the film doesn’t do it justice as it truly must be seen to be believed. Style over substance can get tiring, but when the style is this magnificent, it’s not fatiguing, it’s enriching.
3. The Godfather: Part II (1974)
As it pertains to the great debate of whether Godfather Part I or Part II is better, I find myself constantly flip-flopping. I can’t deny the first film’s prowess, but the second film contains a much more specific delve into the psychology of Michael Corleone. It’s with good reason that Al Pacino’s performance here is thought to be the best ever, enacting an entire world beneath the unfeeling eyes, a hand gently resting on his chin, and legs crossed so as to shield himself from the world. The back-and-forth narrative between the past and present is so effective that it’s still being aped today, aided of course by Robert De Niro’s star-making turn, perhaps the only possible way that Brando’s legacy could’ve been lived up to. There will forever be arguments over the status of Part I or II’s superior quality, but it’s amazing in its own right that there managed to even be a satisfying sequel to one of the most heralded movies of all time in the first place.
2. The Godfather (1972)
What is there be said that, a) has not already been said, and b) will not make me sound like a film bro wasting breath to praise a film that is already widely praised. Even so, it’s The Godfather. Much like the best films of the 70s, it feels like America in a microcosm. The idealized vision of the American dream, ready for new opportunities and the possibility of going about it honestly and purely, only to eventually see the darkness that presides over the world and fall victim to the pull of corruption. Endlessly rewarding with near limitless depth, there’s good reason this is held as one of the very best films of all time. And to think this was just a for-hire job for Coppola.
1. Apocalypse Now (1979)
The single greatest confirmation that art imitates life. The chaos on-screen near directly reflecting the chaos behind the camera, Coppola treading down the river and deeper into madness. Beyond the irresistible behind-the-scenes drama—famously and fantastically documented by the late Eleanor Coppola in Hearts of Darkness—Apocalypse Now is extraordinary. A rich text of American ego and excess, and a summation of its entire history with war, violence, and colonial intervention. Beyond the structural and thematic perfection of The Godfathers, this is the most Coppola film he ever made, perhaps the only time the outcome matched the grandiosity of his vision.