All 10 Best Hailee Steinfeld Movies Ranked (Best to Worst)

A revolutionary explosion of comic-book aesthetics and narrative velocity, Phil Lord and Christopher Miller's kinetic triumph forever altered the boundaries of studio animation. The film vibrates with visual daring, mixing half-tone printing dots, graffiti-laced aesthetics, and multiversal chaos around the deeply human coming-of-age journey of Miles Morales. It balances hyper-stylized action with poignant meditations on loss, destiny, and heroic responsibility. Providing the voice of Gwen Stacy, Steinfeld brings effortless cool, bruised vulnerability, and rhythmic swagger to the table. Rather than treating voice work as mere celebrity stunt casting, she injects Gwen with a guarded gravitas that anchors Miles's chaotic world, establishing an indispensable presence across the groundbreaking franchise.

Joel and Ethan Coen strip away romantic Hollywood myth to deliver a stark, dust-choked frontier tale anchored by razor-sharp period vernacular and Roger Deakins's brooding cinematography. The narrative charts a ruthless quest for vengeance across hostile Choctaw territory, subverting standard revisionist Western tropes with dark humor and biblical morality. Holding her own against industry giants Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon, Steinfeld's debut as the unyielding Mattie Ross remains one of modern cinema’s most astonishing juvenile performances. At fourteen, she rattles off dense nineteenth-century prose with bone-dry precision and fierce moral clarity. It secured her an Academy Award nomination and signaled the arrival of a generational acting heavyweight.

Expanding upon its predecessor’s visual revolution, this ambitious sequel operates as a dazzling symphonic exploration of predestination and narrative rebellion. Directors Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson push aesthetic boundaries to their outer limits, especially within Earth-65’s watercolor expressionism that bleeds and shifts according to emotional turbulence. Steinfeld effectively steps into co-lead status here, shouldering the film's devastating opening prologue. She navigates Gwen’s fractured relationship with her police officer father and her silent dread of multiversal conformity with profound dramatic nuance. Her voice work grounds the kaleidoscope of sensory overload in palpable ache, demonstrating her maturing emotional range within colossal studio canvases.

Kelly Fremon Craig’s debut feature honors the spirit of John Hughes while ditching sentimental gloss in favor of brutal, mortifying honesty. Tracking the downward spiral of high school junior Nadine after her best friend starts dating her golden-boy brother, the film treats adolescent loneliness with genuine respect rather than dismissive satire. Steinfeld delivers a blisteringly funny, unfiltered performance that leans fearlessly into Nadine’s prickly, self-absorbed defense mechanisms. Balancing deadpan comedic timing opposite Woody Harrelson with quiet scenes of grief and social isolation, she transforms potentially grating teenage petulance into a deeply sympathetic portrait of grief and growing pains.

Travis Knight stepped behind the camera to rescue a bloated, exhausted franchise by stripping away noisy pyrotechnics in favor of Amblin-esque heart and 1980s warmth. Centering on a grieving teen who discovers a battle-scarred Autobot in a junkyard, the story prioritizes character bonds, nostalgic needle-drops, and coherent spatial geography over relentless digital carnage. Steinfeld operates as the film’s emotional backbone as Charlie Watson, conveying grease-monkey grit and raw, unresolved bereavement over her father’s death. Her expressive rapport with a silent, digital co-star single-handedly restores human soul to a mechanical universe, proving her singular knack for carrying massive tentpoles entirely on her shoulders.

John Carney’s breezy, music-steeped romance captures New York City during shimmering summer afternoons, celebrating the healing power of open-air independent record production. While the central dynamic hinges on Mark Ruffalo’s disgraced music producer and Keira Knightley’s wounded singer-songwriter, the narrative thrives on its supporting interpersonal textures and acoustic charm. Steinfeld steps in as Dan’s estranged, disaffected teenage daughter Violet, sidestepping bratty clichés to bring genuine vulnerability and subtle teenage awkwardness to the frame. Her climactic, improvised guitar solo during a rooftop recording session provides one of the picture's most satisfying emotional breakthroughs, foreshadowing her eventual real-world crossover into pop stardom.

Ryan Coogler ventures into shadowy, period-steeped supernatural terror, blending Southern gothic folklore with visceral historical friction. The film's moody atmosphere, oppressive shadows, and intense rhythmic score construct an escalating sense of dread as twin brothers collide with sinister forces in their rural hometown. Within an ensemble dominated by intense male brotherhood dynamics, Steinfeld injects an unsettling tension, bringing razor-sharp edge and brooding charisma to her layered supporting turn. Even when operating on the periphery of the central conflict, her commanding poise and watchful screen presence elevate the narrative stakes, underscoring her instinct for choosing ambitious auteur projects over sterile commercial fare.

Elizabeth Banks takes the directorial reins for this high-gloss, joke-dense comedy sequel, magnifying the a cappella spectacle into an international, Olympic-level showdown against German powerhouse Das Sound Machine. While the screenplay relies on broad musical set pieces and familiar campus antics, the production maintains buoyant comic momentum. Steinfeld enters the fray as freshman legacy Emily Junk, tasked with infusing new energy into a fatigued ensemble. Introducing original songwriting into the Bellas' rigid cover-heavy repertoire, her earnest, wide-eyed charm provides a grounding emotional counterweight to the surrounding absurdities, effortlessly launching her real-world musical recording career in the process.

Gavin Hood’s adaptation of the seminal sci-fi novel struggles under the weight of condensed exposition, yet succeeds in crafting chilly zero-gravity combat simulations and thoughtful military allegories. The narrative interrogates the psychological destruction of weaponized children groomed to commit interstellar genocide under the guise of tactical simulations. As Petra Arkanian, Ender’s sharpshooting mentor and moral ally, Steinfeld provides the sterile battle school with its much-needed heartbeat. She injects tough-minded discipline and quiet empathy into otherwise mechanical military drills, though the rushed script leaves her character's deep emotional connection with Ender largely confined to the sidelines of the visual spectacle.

Trish Sie steers the a cappella trilogy toward an exhausting, disjointed conclusion, bizarrely shoehorning European casino heists and military USO tours into a formula that originally succeeded on collegiate charm. The musical numbers remain slickly produced, but the slapstick gags and threadbare narrative betray a franchise completely out of creative gas. Steinfeld makes the absolute best of an underwritten role, returning as Emily with infectious optimism and sunny commitment despite the chaotic backdrop. Even trapped inside a cartoonish caper, her natural vocal talent and effortless charm gleam through, though the material offers her painfully little dramatic ground to explore.