1975 was one of those years where cinema didn’t just show off—it reshaped the landscape. Spielberg invented the modern blockbuster with Jaws. Kubrick made aristocratic dystopia look gorgeous with Barry Lyndon. Altman wrangled chaos into brilliance with Nashville. And if you wanted something stranger, sleazier, or more politically charged, you had Pasolini, Herzog, and a wave of international filmmakers pushing boundaries that still feel shocking today. It was a year where Hollywood muscle met arthouse audacity, where pulp sat comfortably beside prestige, and where nearly every corner of film (from horror to melodrama to political documentary) delivered something unforgettable. So here it is: the best movies of 1975, a lineup that proves one year can hold multitudes, and that cinema in the mid-70s was firing on every cylinder imaginable.
These are the 50 Greatest Movies Turning 50 in 2025.
30. The Battle of Chile: Part 1
The Battle of Chile series is one of the best trilogies ever but the reason you never see it on any ranking is A) it’s a documentary series and B) no one has seen them to even recommend them. The first one is less a history lesson than a countdown clock to a coup. Patricio Guzmán plants his camera in the streets of Santiago as Allende’s government buckles under pressure, and what he captures is a country tearing itself apart. This is a documentary that doesn’t care if you’re comfortable—it drags you into the middle of a country on fire and dares you to look away.
There’s no sugarcoating, no safety net. Protesters scream, soldiers march, and politicians argue while the whole country feels like it’s standing on an X waiting for an Acme anvil to drop and destroy everything. The film isn’t polished or slick, but that’s because it was made in the middle of chaos, not after the fact. You can practically see the danger off-screen every time Guzmán’s crew keeps rolling when common sense would’ve told them to duck. It’s not fun in the traditional sense, but it is electric. Every scene feels urgent, every moment feels dangerous, and by the end, you’re not just watching history you’re exhausted from living through it.
29. The Magic Flute
Ingmar Bergman making an opera film sounds like a prank, but The Magic Flute isn’t just real—it’s one of the most purely joyful things he ever made. This is Bergman not brooding in black-and-white about death or the silence of God, but staging Mozart with so much affection it almost feels like he’s in a good mood for once. Filmed for Swedish television, the story is about the Queen of the Night who enlists a handsome prince named Tamino (Josef Köstlinger) to rescue her beautiful kidnapped daughter, Princess Pamina (Irma Urrila). Aided by the lovelorn bird hunter Papageno and a magical flute that holds the power to change the hearts of men, young Tamino embarks on a quest for true love, leading to the evil Sarastro’s (Ulrik Cold) temple where Pamina is held captive.
The film opens with close-ups of the audience, reminding you this isn’t some sterile, museum-piece adaptation, it’s theater captured with intimacy. Bergman treats Mozart’s opera like it’s both high art and playful entertainment, never letting the spectacle overwhelm the performers. The costumes are lush, the sets are colorful, and the camera is always alive, catching the humor and wonder in the music rather than just pointing at a stage. The cast sings their hearts out, but it’s not just about the music. Bergman emphasizes the fantasy, the charm, and the humanity behind the opera. You don’t need to be an opera fan to get swept up in it, which is kind of the point. This is Mozart for everyone, filtered through one of cinema’s most serious directors, who for once decided to let us smile. It’s Bergman proving he can do lightness without losing precision. And honestly? It’s delightful.
28. Coonskin
This film is the epitome of the old adage “an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.” Ralph Bakshi remaking Song of the South is akin to watching the truck from the film Sorcerer barrel towards a runaway freight train that’s transporting nothing but babies, nuns, and dynamite. No matter the quality, it’s going to be the most controversial thing ever. These two things should never collide, but since Bakshi is one of the best directors of the 20th century, it works. It works if you understand what it is and what it’s trying to say. Coonskin is a brutal satire that takes aim at racism and prejudices and doesn’t let anyone off the hook. Nobody is portrayed as the quote-unquote superior race, and there are no heroes. This is an angry film that takes a sledgehammer to subtlety. It doesn’t scream at its audience. It grabs it by the throat and doesn’t let go till you understand its message, which we still haven’t.
27. Shampoo
Shampoo is a comedy about sex where the sex is the least sexy thing imaginable. It’s 1968, the night Nixon gets elected, and Warren Beatty plays George, a hairdresser who sleeps with every woman in Beverly Hills but still can’t figure out why he’s miserable. He’s good at making women moan but terrible at making them stay. The film isn’t interested in romance; it’s interested in hypocrisy. Ashby and Beatty paint L.A. as a place where everyone is cheating, lying, and pretending they’re happier than they are. Goldie Hawn wants commitment, Julie Christie wants stability, and Lee Grant wants her next affair.
Everyone wants something George can’t give, because George doesn’t even know what he wants. It’s funny, but the laughs come from discomfort. Beatty gets tangled in one affair after another until his whole world feels like a bad farce. And yet, underneath the comedy, there’s sadness. The sixties are dying, Nixon’s on TV, and George—who should be the freest man alive—is trapped in his own aimlessness. Shampoo works because it’s both breezy and devastating. You laugh at his mess, but when it’s over, you realize he’s just another guy who confused sex with fulfillment and ended up empty-handed.
26. Death Race 2000
Whenever discussing cult films, Paul Bartel’s Death Race 2000 has to be at the top of the list. It’s like the Wacky Races meets Mad Max as this twisted futuristic B-movie follows a brutal cross-country race where drivers score points by mowing down pedestrians. Death Race blends dark satire with gritty violence that matched the rebellious punk rock spirit that was bubbling up at the time. The drivers were like over-the-top wrestlers with their cars being characters themselves as souped-up death machines. Frankenstein (David Carradine) and Machine Gun Joe (Sylvester Stallone) would lead the pack of the deranged and fun drivers trying to win the race while mowing down innocent bystanders. It’s a fun ride for lovers of cool movie cars with a wicked sense of humor.
–Vincent Kane
25. Sholay
Two petty criminals are enlisted by a former police officer to capture a bandit who is terrorizing a small village. What stands out about Sholay is how unabashed it is in having as much goofy fun as it can. It’s a real blending pot of genres – musical, comedy, action, romance – but each piece is equally welcome and adds to the pastiche. The two leads are the perfect lovable rogues. With a three-and-a-half-hour runtime, Sholay makes good on its epic scope and delivers a grand, fun time.
–Bryan Loomis
24. Fox and His Friends
Franz “Fox” Bieberkopf (played by Fassbinder himself) is a working-class lottery winner who suddenly finds himself swimming in circles with the bourgeoisie. They love him for his money, not for who he is, and Fassbinder doesn’t bother pretending otherwise. You watch, helpless, as Fox is bled dry (financially, emotionally, spiritually) by men who smile while picking his pockets. This isn’t a rags-to-riches story, it’s rags-to-riches-to-trash. Fassbinder strips away any illusion that love or class will save Fox. Every interaction is transactional, every relationship poisoned by greed. By the end, Fox isn’t just ruined—he’s discarded.
And the film makes it very clear: society doesn’t care. This is what the elites do to new money. People that should be automatically in the “club” since they can buy a seat at the table but since he didn’t get it through generational wealth, he is no different to them, than the beggars they actively avoid on the street. Fox and His Friends is Rainer Werner Fassbinder at his meanest and most autobiographical, which is saying something for a guy who never exactly trafficked in good time vibes. What makes it brutal is his lack of sentimentality. There’s no melodrama, no safety net. Just the inevitability of betrayal and the casual cruelty of people who think they’re better than you. It’s ugly, it’s honest, and it’s unforgettable.
23. Night Moves
Since there are no trenchcoats, dimly lit offices or dutch angles, it’s easy to forget that Night Moves is a noir. Arthur Penn took all the tropes of detective fiction—the missing girl, the crooked deals, the cynical PI—and strips them of any glamour until all that’s left is a man watching his own life circle the drain. He crafted a slow-motion car crash of disillusionment where everyone involved is too tired, too bitter, or too stubborn to swerve out of the way. Gene Hackman plays Harry Moseby, a private eye who’s technically doing his job but mostly wandering through it like a man who’s misplaced his purpose. He’s hired to track down a runaway teenager (a young Melanie Griffith in her first major role), but the case is less about the girl and more about Harry’s inability to control anything—his marriage, his career, or the truth.
What makes Night Moves sting is its refusal to play by genre rules. The mystery isn’t solved so much as it collapses in on itself. The twists don’t add up to anything neat, and the finale is one of the bleakest gut-punches in ‘70s cinema. Hackman, coming off The Conversation and French Connection II, is phenomenal. His Harry is bruised, sarcastic, and perpetually one step behind a world that doesn’t care about his rules. It’s a million miles away from Philip Marlowe and all the better for it. If you’re looking for a great mystery, you won’t find one. The film is meant to leave you realizing you’ve been chasing answers that were never going to save you. It’s unsatisfying in terms of revelations but it’s a bitter pill worth experiencing. Few films of the era linger or leave as nasty a bruise like Night Moves.
22. Shivers
Shivers is an unsettling horror gem that gave us a glimpse into the sci-fi body-horror we would come to love from David Cronenberg. It dives into a swanky Montreal high-rise where a parasitic experiment goes haywire, turning residents into lust-crazed, infected maniacs. Cronenberg’s chilling vision would display a visceral, squirm-inducing imagery that’s rough around the edges. From the doomed scientist to the unraveling tenants, the characters pull you into a claustrophobic descent that’s as disturbing as it is mesmerizing. It would become a cult hit as fans revel in its raw, unapologetic energy that’s perfect for a late-night screening.
–Vincent Kane
21. Tommy
Within one year, Ken Russell released two movies about musicians starring Roger Daltrey, and while both are amazing, Tommy is in a league of its own. This is what happens when you hand a madman The Who’s rock opera and a blank check. It’s loud, it’s messy, it’s overstuffed, and it’s absolutely impossible to look away from. Daltrey stars as the “deaf, dumb, and blind kid” who becomes a messianic pinball wizard, but the real show is the supporting cast. You get Oliver Reed trying to sing like his life depends on it, Ann-Margret rolling around in beans and chocolate, Jack Nicholson suavely crooning as a doctor, and Elton John stomping around on gigantic boots while belting out one of the band’s biggest hits.
Russell doesn’t tone down a single thing. Every scene is designed to slap you in the face with sound and spectacle. It’s campy, garish, and completely over the top, but that’s exactly why it works. The film is both a faithful adaptation of the album and its own unhinged beast, fusing pop culture excess with Russell’s feverish imagination. Is it coherent? Not really. Is it subtle? Absolutely not. But as a sensory assault, few films from the decade come close. Tommy isn’t just watched—it’s survived. And good God is the music amazing. Every band or musician worth a shit deserves a film as bombastic as this.
40-31 | 20-11
What are some of your favorite movies from 1975? Do you think they’ll show up on this list?
