Writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson’s interests as a filmmaker vary greatly: Over 10 movies (including his latest, “One Battle After Another”), he’s explored the lives of adult film stars, cult leaders, fashion designers, revolutionaries, lovestruck young people, and many other souls. You can’t pin him down to one subject or genre, yet there’s a consistent interest across his films in the intimacy of cinema. Anderson can do large-scale chase sequences or staggering wide shots with the best of them, but he’s also clearly fascinated with chronicling lives and experiences often ignored by mainstream cinema, like everyday Los Angeles residents or leftist activists.

Even titles focused on the bourgeoisie, like “Phantom Thread” and “There Will Be Blood,” center entirely on uncovering the often-ignored, jagged, messy, and even downright evil parts of men usually just considered legendary geniuses. This fascination for the untold lends uniqueness to his works and is one of many reasons ranking his 10 films from “least best” to best is such an incredible exercise. Throughout Anderson’s filmography, the unexpected dominates the frame and talented actors have enough room to deliver their most uniquely detailed performances ever. 

Even the lowest-ranked films on this list would be all-time greats from most other filmmakers. As for Anderson’s highest-ranked motion pictures, they’re some of the best modern movies in any genre. That’s what happens when you’re a director with a wide array of interests, not to mention a penchant for extraordinary storytelling.

Do not take the placement of 1996’s “Hard Eight” at the bottom of this list as a sign that it’s Paul Thomas Anderson’s “bad” movie. On the contrary, this is a very assured debut, chronicling how John (John C. Reilly) learns the gambling ropes from grizzled veteran Sydney (Philip Baker Hall). Decades later, what’s fascinating about “Hard Eight” is its scale: This is very much a first effort in terms of its limited cast and scope (the story only occurs across a handful of Reno, Nevada locales). Future Anderson titles would span decades, follow countless lives, and take place against the most lavish of backdrops. “Hard Eight,” though, is a snapshot of an artist getting his feet wet, not knowing the expansive future awaiting him.

Even in these tighter confines, Anderson’s gifts are already apparent, including getting great performances out of his actors. Philip Baker Hall especially captivates as the unpredictable Sydney. There’s no pinning this older guy down; Hall effortlessly keeps him an enigma that can do anything and everything at any time. The film’s greatest scene also features a cameo from Philip Seymour Hoffman, who delivers jaw-dropping work with limited screentime. No wonder he and Anderson would reunite constantly over the ensuing years. 

Such remarkable turns lend bittersweet weight to “Hard Eight,” which (thanks to budgetary and narrative constraints) lacks the extra masterful juice of subsequent Anderson films. From the start, though, this man’s craftsmanship was apparent. Moviegoers circa 1996 would have been wise to bet on his future.

Paul Thomas Anderson’s genuine love for comedy has materialized several times throughout his career, including in his casting of Adam Sandler as “Punch-Drunk Love” protagonist Barry Egan. The “Happy Gilmore” and “The Wedding Singer” star anchors this intentionally peculiar 2002 love story about the profoundly lonely Egan eventually hitting it off with Lena Leonard (Emily Watson), despite Egan being prone to extremely violent outbursts and other forms of erratic behavior. Leonard, meanwhile, has much more banal yet odd flourishes, such as her commitment to purchasing lots of pudding so that she can get a plane ticket. An irate mattress store owner, Dean Trumbell (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), also plays into the proceedings.

“Punch-Drunk Love” oscillates between drily zany and uncomfortable, with the latter element emerging whenever Anderson clinically and unblinkingly captures Egan at his most violently unpredictable. Sandler is remarkably adept at playing Egan’s unhinged side in a tour de force performance. Those who think “Uncut Gems” is his only great work as an actor should witness his “Punch-Drunk Love” turn. Anderson and frequent cinematographer Robert Elswit, meanwhile, make gloriously precise visual choices, including the pleasingly recurring use of blue and the specific deployment of evocative shadows.

There are indeed better comedies and more eccentric exercises in Paul Thomas Anderson’s filmography. However, “Punch-Drunk Love” remains a commendably unique take on a “romantic drama,” thanks to excellent imagery and that magnificent Adam Sandler performance.

Sit back, relax, and just groove to the laidback charms of “Licorice Pizza.” While other Paul Thomas Anderson films, like “The Master,” utilize atmosphere to convey achingly painful ambiance, “Licorice Pizza” is first and foremost a comedy (and a 1973 period piece at that). Nonchalant vibes permeate Anderson’s script as it jostles from one set piece to the next involving teen actor Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman) and adrift 25-year-old Alana Kane (Alana Haim). Instead of frantically adhering to traditional character arcs, “Licorice Pizza” is more enamored with hysterical sight gags or exploiting all the awkward comedy potential of hangout sequences. 

If there’s any qualms to be had with “Licorice Pizza,” it’s that its ’70s setting feels a bit derivative of previous Anderson films like “Inherent Vice” and “Boogie Nights,” while its supporting cast isn’t as strong as the filmmaker’s best ensembles. Otherwise, this is a terrifically-realized comedy carrying the precise visual and timing instincts so many modern theatrical yukfests lack. It’s also a remarkable feature film acting debut from Alana Haim, who’s effortlessly captivating in every second of her screentime and has no trouble shedding her image associated with the band, Haim, that bears her last name. 

Throw in a killer soundtrack full of era-appropriate tunes that are bound to inspire toe-tapping from any moviegoer, plus Bradley Cooper as an appropriately unhinged take on producer Jon Peters, and “Licorice Pizza” is a mighty amusing ride heavily rewarding viewers willing to stay in the slow lane. 

Though known as an artsy auteur, Paul Thomas Anderson also clearly has an affinity for comedy. This is the man, after all, who snuck fart jokes into the bleak “The Master.” Anderson really reveled in those wacky instincts for 2014’s “Inherent Vice,” an adaptation of the 2009 Thomas Pynchon novel of the same name, in which the persistently stoned private investigator Larry “Doc” Sportello (Joaquin Phoenix) falls down a slew of conspiratorial rabbit holes that keep leading back to his ex-girlfriend, Shasta Fay Hepworth (Katherine Waterston). 

While other Anderson films are garnished with comedic flourishes, “Inherent Vice” is wall-to-wall silliness. This is a movie where people can die through tragic trampoline accidents while authority figures like Lieutenant Christian F. “Bigfoot” Bjornsen (Josh Brolin) stuff lots and lots of pot into their mouths. Sportello may be a clueless P.I., but he’s practically down-to-earth compared to the off-the-rails souls he keeps encountering. Sportello’s descents into easygoing madness are told with remarkable visual panache, particularly when it comes to wide shots that capture Phoenix’s humorous physical acting. 

“Inherent Vice” does have its share of bittersweet and reflective digressions centered on the passage of time. However, this is primarily Paul Thomas Anderson in groovy farce form. It’s a mold that the filmmaker proves exceptionally hysterical in.

One day can change everything. That’s especially true if you’re one of the assortment of people chronicled in “Magnolia,” Paul Thomas Anderson’s 1999 epic that follows a tapestry of different lives. There’s police officer Jim Kurring (John C. Reilly), toxic public speaker Frank Mackey (Tom Cruise), struggling addict Claudia Gator (Melora Walters), and remorseful impending widow Linda Partridge (Julianne Moore), among many others. It’s a wild and often devastating ride, jostling between all these human beings and their various woes. Anderson’s script is incredibly dense and expansive, giving the individual performers plenty of opportunities to shine.

Cruise especially excels as an unnervingly aggressive proto-incel in a sharp departure from his typical movie star image. A haunting Philip Seymour Hoffman and aching Moore also impress, while Reilly proves an instantly endearing everyman anchor for the entire production. All the while, “Magnolia” constantly circles back to one concept: the past never leaves us. No matter how many years pass, our past keeps reverberating into the future. This reality keeps materializing throughout “Magnolia,” particularly in how characters are haunted by their trauma and unresolved emotional baggage. 

Anderson’s camera never wavers in depicting the haunting lows these various characters endure as the past proves psychologically and physically inescapable. The result is a deeply heavy movie, but also one with incredible creative conviction right down to the climactic rain of frogs. It’s also a mesmerizing collection of tremendous performances from many legendary performers, including “Hard Eight” leading man Philip Baker Hall.

It’s impossible to overstate how beautiful “Phantom Thread” looks. The film (which has no credited cinematographer but was apparently lensed by Paul Thomas Anderson himself) is rife with images, like Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) and Alma Elson (Vicky Krieps) dancing on New Year’s Eve while a beam of light shines down on them, that could easily be classical paintings. Every shot is immaculately blocked and composed, a fitting feat for a film about a detail-oriented, perfectionist fashion designer. Just as inspiring is how Anderson’s script juxtaposes that glorious imagery with a freaky little yarn about a romantic couple’s ever-shifting power dynamics.

The world of “Phantom Thread” looks radiant, but the people inside it are the very definition of catty. Woodcock, in particular, is just a hilariously whiny brat who can’t abide any interruptions to his work or repeatedly berates his wife over food as she’s laying her soul bare in a monologue. Naturally, all this tomfoolery eventually entails a narrative turn revolving around poisoned food. It’s unspeakably fun to watch these talented actors (including Lesley Manville’s powerful supporting turn), all gussied up in glorious period-era costumes, being incessantly sassy to each other. The sharp writing of those various barbs and cutting declarations only amplifies these joys.

Paul Thomas Anderson’s movies give viewers lots of bang for their buck. That’s especially true of 2017’s “Phantom Thread” and all the visually sumptuous and comically macabre joys it delivers to folks expecting a traditional costume drama.

Even the “glory days” of adult cinema chronicled in 1997’s “Boogie Nights” aren’t very glorious. Dirk Diggler (Mark Wahlberg), Amber Waves (Julianne Moore), and Jack Horner (Burt Reynolds) might remember their days of joyful pool parties and drugs as the pinnacle of existence, but people were still OD’ing and getting carted to hospitals during these opulent shindigs. “Boogie Nights” is the saga of an “empire” that could never stand forever. The advent of home video hastened the decline of splashy, big-screen pornography, but there were always ominous problems in this industry anyway.

That inevitable reality instills a bittersweet quality into Paul Thomas Anderson’s script and forces viewers to confront their own nostalgic memories. What dark corners lurk within our hagiographic visions of halcyon days? Even with an effectively moody center, however, these outsized ’70s characters are still a riot to watch on-screen. Individuals like Buck Swope (Don Cheadle), Rollergirl (Heather Graham), or Reed Rothchild (John C. Reilly) are riotous, ditto one-scene figures like drug dealer Rahad Jackson (Alfred Molina). Even Wahlberg, who often plays variations of his media persona in movies, loses himself in Diggler’s distinct personality.

Mark Bridges’s costume design is also one of many visual elements truly making the period piece setting so vibrant. Similarly intricate detail is also felt in the pastiches of vintage adult films. Anderson did his homework, as seen by his full understanding of this genre’s nuances and tropes. These achievements ensure “Boogie Nights,” though a nightmare for its fictional characters, is a tremendously involving tale.

The oil is there, and Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis) is determined to get it. Wealth is inevitably in his future, not because he’s especially skilled or smart, but because he’s ruthless and expresses open contempt for others. The title of 2007’s “There Will Be Blood” is an ominous declaration of what will ensue in Plainview’s quest for power and money. The misery of others is of no consequence to Plainview, so long as his wallet is full and the oil gushers keep flowing. This is a bone-chilling movie, decimating any grandiose, clean-cut mythology behind early 20th-century oil barons. Folks like Daniel Plainview are to be feared, not admired. 

Despite being such a harrowing and grim exercise, it’s impossible to turn away from “There Will Be Blood.” It’s just such a magnificently realized production, from the period-era sets and costume design to Jonny Greenwood’s haunting score. Then there’s Daniel Day-Lewis, in his very first collaboration with Paul Thomas Anderson. Even considering his legendary reputation as someone who vanishes into each of his roles, it’s staggering to witness how Plainview bears no resemblance to any other Day-Lewis performance. There is such singular specificity in this man across the roughly 30 years of existence that “There Will Be Blood” charts. It’s a remarkable turn, earning every ounce of its hype.

Even the once-controversial ending now stands as something ingeniously sparse. It’s just another unique, subversive trait in Anderson’s storytelling approach to this oil-drenched masterpiece.

The biggest problem with “One Battle After Another” is how much it reaffirms that typical big-budget 2025 movies are asleep at the wheel. While superhero movies drown their scripts in tedious exposition and sequel teases, this costly action thriller hits the ground running and just keeps moving like its outlaw protagonists. The generic staging that permeates “Jurassic World Rebirth” and “Captain America: Brave New World” is absent here, as Anderson imbues each image with precise compositions. Emotion, spectacle, and humanity are all deftly juggled within this towering accomplishment. It all looks so effortless, yet countless bad 2020s blockbusters make it clear that creating something as excellent as “One Battle After Another” isn’t easy.

An adaptation of Thomas Pynchon’s novel “Vineland,” “One Battle” follows former revolutionary Bob Ferguson (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his daughter Willa (Chase Infiniti) being forced on the run when an adversary from Ferguson’s past reappears. At times, this means the story is an exquisite comic farce as the bumbling Ferguson tries to charge his phone, remember passwords, and not get arrested in pursuit of his daughter. Meanwhile, for Willa, “One Battle After Another” is a saga about gruelingly learning the complexities of the world. In either mode, the feature delivers, particularly in showcasing Infiniti as an unmistakable movie star. 

Every cast member (including an outstanding Sean Penn and Teyana Taylor in supporting turns) delivers here, and the car chases are breathtaking and groundbreaking. “One Battle After Another” masterfully puts its contemporary blockbuster brethren to shame.

Sometimes, one scene solidifies that a movie is a masterpiece. For “The Master,” that sequence is the final interaction between psychologically tormented Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) and cult leader Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman). Little sentimentality is traded in this tense exchange as the two men realize they’re going down different paths in life. Dodd inquires of the aimless Quell, “If you figure a way to live without serving a master, any master, then let the rest of us know, will you? For you’d be the first person in the history of the world.”

This tête-à-tête exudes subdued pain and is masterfully handled by Phoenix and Hoffman. While it’s the greatest “Master” sequence, it’s far from the only standout scene in this extraordinary work. The unhurried storytelling sensibilities vividly echo Quell’s uncertain mental state and the improvised nature of Dodd’s cult. Every rule in the book for how narrative films “should” operate is eschewed for something more jagged in pacing and structure. Paul Thomas Anderson and cinematographer Mihai Mălaimare Jr.’s use of 65mm film also lends the movie an incredibly distinctive look compared to other mid-20th-century period pieces, a fitting quality considering how idiosyncratic Quell and Dodd are.

In hindsight, “The Master” is also one of the last showcases for Hoffman’s immense talents. As he softly sings “”On a Slow Boat to China,” “The Master” fully displays the talents that bolstered cinema in general and masterworks like this 2012 film.