All 9 Best Milo Manheim Movies Ranked (Best to Worst)

Eli Roth’s holiday slasher extracts genuine dread from the grotesque commercialism of Black Friday, staging inventive, unsparing kills across Plymouth, Massachusetts. Operating with gleeful practical effects and razor-sharp pacing, the production balances grim satire with the unpretentious thrills of vintage grindhouse cinema. Within this blood-soaked high school demographic, Manheim cuts against his polished squeaky-clean archetype as Ryan, bringing understated gravity and grounded teenage wariness to an ensemble constantly facing decapitation. It marked his critical theatrical graduation, proving his screen instincts translate effortlessly to grim, visceral genre filmmaking outside the musical bubble.

Adam Anders mounts an ambitious, unapologetically pop-infused musical retelling of the Nativity, pairing biblical reverence with Broadway-style grandeur. Sweeping desert landscapes and lush orchestration supply genuine theatrical momentum, refusing to treat solemn history with dry solemnity. Stepping into the central role of Joseph, Manheim anchors the narrative's emotional spine with vocal maturity and poignant vulnerability. Caught between social scandal and divine faith, his performance imbues an ancient figure with tangible human doubt and warmth. It stands as his most vocally polished and dramatically demanding performance to date, demonstrating remarkable maturity as a legitimate musical theater lead.

Anya Adams breathes lively, John Hughes-inflected charm into this self-aware teen comedy, tracking two social outcasts attempting to hijack high school social politics. The script crackles with snappy banter, avoiding cheap melodrama in favor of nuanced teenage anxiety and authentic platonic loyalty. Playing Ben, the devoted best friend harboring secret insecurities, Manheim brings breezy comedic timing and effortless warmth to every frame. His easy chemistry with Peyton Elizabeth Lee propels the film’s sweetest moments, showing a relaxed charisma that relies on sharp comedic rhythm rather than high-concept choreography. It remains his most charming contemporary turn.

Disney’s candy-colored musical fantasy reconfigures classic integration parables into an energetic clash between suburban conformity and marginalized monsters. Director Paul Hoen blends infectious pop choreography with stylized production design, crafting a vibrant allegory that resonated immediately with young audiences. As Zed, the charismatic zombie football player fighting systemic prejudice, Manheim essentially minted his stardom. He infuses the undead protagonist with boundless athletic grace, infectious optimism, and genuine romantic earnestness. It is the signature calling-card role that revealed his innate leading-man vitality and physical theater background to a global audience.

Raising the stakes with the arrival of a predatory werewolf pack, this sequel doubles down on driving rhythms, tribal-pop percussion, and heightened social friction at Seabrook High. The choreography grows considerably more athletic, matching an escalated production budget with punchy visual flair and sharper musical arrangements. Manheim returns to Zed with seasoned confidence, navigating teenage jealousy and political ambition as his relationship with Addison faces ideological strain. His energetic dance work remains a central highlight, lending emotional sincerity to an increasingly crowded ensemble dynamic and cementing his standing as Disney's modern musical anchor.

Extraterrestrial visitors descend upon Seabrook in a neon-drenched sci-fi expansion that pushes the franchise toward high-gloss spectacle. While the narrative strains slightly under interplanetary stakes, the musical numbers maintain explosive technical precision and euphoric visual palette shifts. Manheim tackles Zed’s senior-year existential crisis with heartfelt charm, fighting for athletic college admission while wrestling with impending adulthood. He carries the film's emotional farewell with veteran poise, ensuring that despite the overstuffed alien mythology, the core bond between Zed and his community lands with satisfying, genuine emotional closure.

Trading high school hallways for the open road, this fourth installment introduces ancient vampire clans in an effort to reignite the creature-feature dynamic. While the formula begins showing its predictable seams, the musical set-pieces retain their kinetic rhythm and polished lighting design. Manheim slips back into Zed’s green hair with effortless professionalism, though the script hands him fewer fresh thematic notes to explore beyond his familiar peacemaker routine. He remains a magnetic physical performer, carrying younger cast members through routine story beats with sheer goodwill, even as franchise exhaustion looms overhead.

Broadcast during the height of early pandemic lockdowns, this remote musical special stitched together unvarnished home video performances to offer comforting nostalgia to an anxious public. Stripped of traditional cinematic production values, the event relies entirely on familiar studio catalogue hooks and participatory celebrity cheer. Manheim surfaces alongside his musical peers to deliver buoyant pop harmonies, radiating spontaneous enthusiasm straight through domestic webcams. While strictly an ephemeral television novelty rather than a legitimate dramatic feature, the appearance spotlights his reliable, sunny showmanship and musical fluency under the most casual conditions imaginable.

Attempting to resurrect a dormant mid-2000s brand, this reunion project struggles under the weight of nostalgic obligations and perfunctory teen rivalry tropes. The musical selections lack the hook-laden punch of earlier Disney Channel milestones, resulting in a predictable competition narrative that feels assembled by committee. Manheim does what he can with an underwritten supporting role, providing dependable vocal polish and an amiable presence. However, the derivative material gives him virtually zero dramatic traction, stranding his natural charismatic spark inside an uninspired, backward-looking franchise reboot that never justifies its own revival.