All 10 Best Miles Teller Movies Ranked (Best to Worst)

Few modern dramas capture the terrifying velocity of psychological obsession like Damien Chazelle’s blistering chamber piece. Framed with the kinetic brutality of an action thriller, the narrative turns a conservatory rehearsal space into a blood-splattered battleground where artistic transcendence borders on emotional annihilation. Every frame pulses with metronomic anxiety, edited with razor-sharp percussion. Anchoring that suffocating crucible, Teller delivers the performance of his career as Andrew Neiman. He plays ambition not as a virtue, but as a corrosive addiction, matching J.K. Simmons blow for furious blow. It remains the undisputed gold standard of his dramatic repertoire, cementing his capacity for unvarnished, physical commitment.

Joseph Kosinski’s airborne triumph succeeds because it marries staggering practical flight choreography with deep-seated generational remorse. Rather than coasting on nostalgic fumes, the script establishes genuine emotional gravity around grief, responsibility, and the unforgiving toll of military duty. The cockpit cinematography delivers dizzying, visceral aerial geometry that revitalized the modern theatrical event. Sliding behind the aviators as Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Teller effortlessly embodies the ghost of Anthony Edwards while staking his own claim as a top-tier blockbuster anchor. His bristling tension with Tom Cruise provides the narrative with its beating heart, proving he possesses the charisma and grit required of a true old-school movie star.

James Ponsoldt’s tender high school portrait sidesteps every coming-of-age cliché to deliver a heartbreaking study of functional teenage alcoholism and arrested development. Grounded by an empathetic script and textured visual intimacy, the drama examines how suburban charm often masks profound familial abandonment and terrifying uncertainty about adulthood. Teller is phenomenal as Sutter Keely, locating the tragic rot beneath a magnetic life-of-the-party facade. Opposite Shailene Woodley, he plays charm as a defensive armor, making Sutter's gradual unraveling sting with painful authenticity. This indie breakout laid the foundational groundwork for his career, announcing a young performer capable of rare emotional transparency.

Chronicling the true story of the Granite Mountain Hotshots, this grounded procedural treats blue-collar sacrifice with sober dignity rather than hollow heroics. Kosinski crafts an intensely tactile portrait of brotherhood, contrasting the terrifying, uncontrollable force of wildfire with the mundane domestic realities of municipal firefighters. The pacing burns slow and builds toward an emotionally devastating climax that honors real-world loss. Stepping into the shoes of Brendan McDonough, Teller portrays a drug-addicted outcast desperate for redemption with remarkable humility. He strips away his trademark swagger to inhabit a quiet, grateful survivor, delivering one of the most soulful and understated turns of his filmography.

Todd Phillips takes a wild true-crime premise and turns it into a sharp critique of post-9/11 defense contracting and unchecked capitalist absurdity. Infused with swaggering rock tracks and sun-drenched Miami aesthetics, the narrative exposes how two twenty-somethings exploited federal loopholes to broker massive international weapons deals. The storytelling is fast, cynical, and ruthlessly entertaining throughout. Teller provides the grounded moral compass as David Packouz, balancing the frantic, unhinged energy of Jonah Hill’s Efraim Diveroli. While Hill commands the flashier moments, Teller’s subtle descent into greed and panic anchors the madness, showcasing his deft talent for balancing high-stakes comedy with escalating domestic tension.

High-concept genre exercises live or die by atmospheric execution, and this Scott Derrickson sci-fi survival thriller builds palpable dread out of claustrophobic isolation. Tasked with guarding an impenetrable, mist-shrouded chasm against unseen horrors below, the narrative blends monster-movie creature mechanics with an unconventional long-distance romance. The tension snaps whenever the subterranean threat surfaces, fueled by slick visual design and kinetic combat choreography. Teller shoulders the heavy physical lifting as a weary operative pushed past his tactical limits. Balancing sharp survivalist instincts with tender vulnerability alongside Anya Taylor-Joy, he injects human soul into what could have easily been a sterile special-effects showcase.

Exploring the bureaucratic whimsy of the afterlife, David Freyne’s high-concept romantic comedy crafts a clever philosophical sandbox around mortality, regret, and enduring devotion. Characters must navigate a seven-day deadline to select their permanent resting plane, framing romance not as a whirlwind crush, but as an existential choice about personal legacy. Its whimsical staging balances melancholy reflections with eccentric workplace satire. Teller plays against his usual hard-nosed type, leaning into romantic yearning, gentle deadpan timing, and earnest vulnerability. His layered chemistry with Elizabeth Olsen carries the emotional weight of the piece, proving his screen presence works just as gracefully in soft, speculative romantic terrain.

Antoine Fuqua’s ambitious biographical chronicle undertakes the gargantuan task of framing the life, sonic brilliance, and turbulent controversies surrounding the King of Pop. Featuring meticulous musical recreations and lavish stage reconstructions, the film attempts to humanize a global pop culture icon swallowed whole by fame. The spectacle is grand, though the sprawling script occasionally struggles under the sheer weight of its historical timeline. Stepping outside musical arenas, Teller takes on the calculated role of entertainment attorney and manager John Branca. He functions as a steady industry ballast, bringing shrewd pragmatism and sharp negotiation tactics to the chaotic vortex of superstar management.

The second installment in the dystopian YA saga escalates into generic blockbuster territory, trading the allegorical world-building of its predecessor for frantic green-screen shootouts and simulation puzzles. While Robert Schwentke injects slick visual polish and solid pacing into the action, the faction-based revolution feels increasingly derivative and emotionally muted. The narrative strains under the weight of convoluted sci-fi lore. Amidst the humorless rebellion, Teller’s recurring turn as Peter Hayes serves as a necessary jolt of cynical electricity. He treats the material with playful contempt, playing a selfish, slippery mercenary whose self-serving quips provide the franchise’s only reliable burst of genuine fun.

Crushed by franchise fatigue and the ill-fated trend of splitting final book chapters into two movies, this penultimate chapter lands as a hollow, visually washed-out sci-fi dud. The plot strands its heroes in a bland, sterile wasteland outside Chicago, bogged down by sluggish exposition and cheap-looking digital effects that strip away any lingering stakes. It represents the dying gasp of 2010s dystopian teen cinema. Even within a narrative running on fumes, Teller’s cynical charm remains a lone bright spot. Slipping back into Peter's smarmy treachery, he wrings every drop of sarcasm out of half-baked dialogue, effortlessly outshining the film's tedious world-saving theatrics.