The 10 Best Movies of 1970 (Ranked)

Elio Petri opens his razor-sharp dissection of authoritarian impunity by having a police inspector slit his mistress's throat, purposefully planting his own clues just to prove he is untouchable. Gian Maria Volonté delivers a terrifying, twitching performance of megalomania, perfectly accentuated by Ennio Morricone's bizarre, mocking score. Petri directs with dizzying, claustrophobic camera movements that transform the Rome police headquarters into a Kafkaesque hall of mirrors where bureaucratic paranoia runs rampant. In 1970, as Italy entered the Years of Lead, this Cannes Grand Prix and Oscar winner captured the terrifying reality of state-sanctioned violence with peerless critical bite.

Jean-Pierre Melville mounts his definitive underworld poem through pure, unadorned cinematic precision. Alain Delon, Gian Maria Volonté, and Yves Montand play desperate, chain-smoking crooks drawn together by inescapable destiny to orchestrate a legendary half-hour jewelry heist conducted in dead silence. Melville strips dialogue to the bone, shooting Paris and rural France in desaturated trench-coat greys and icy blues. Arriving at the dawn of the decade, the film crystallized European neo-noir into high art, proving that genre cinema could convey profound existential weight without a single wasted movement or sentimental flourish.

Framed by that monolithic, oversized American flag, George C. Scott's opening monologue instantly redefines the biographical war film into a grand character study of a brilliant anachronism. Directed by Franklin J. Schaffner from a perceptive screenplay co-written by Francis Ford Coppola, the production avoids both hero worship and pure demonization. Instead, it observes General George S. Patton as a romantic warrior born out of his century, trapped inside mechanized combat. As Hollywood fractured in 1970, this epic achieved the impossible by earning massive box office, sweeping the Academy Awards, and pleasing both hawks and anti-war skeptics.

King Hu transformed the martial arts genre forever by treating combat as a spiritual communion rather than mere spectacle. Following a fugitive noblewoman pursued by corrupt Ming dynasty agents, the narrative unfolds across desolate landscapes, misty bamboo groves, and abandoned ruins. Hu combines classical Beijing opera rhythms with transcendent editing patterns, culminating in iconic, gravity-defying airborne sword fights that established new benchmarks for action choreography. Premiering in 1970, this visionary epic proved that wuxia storytelling belonged in the global art-house pantheon, laying groundwork that future auteurs would build upon for generations.

Arthur Penn punctures the fabricated myths of the American frontier through Jack Crabb, a 121-year-old survivor who bounced between white society and the Cheyenne people. Dustin Hoffman gives a chameleonic performance, balancing slapstick broad comedy with heartbreaking pathos, supported by Chief Dan George's sublime, Oscar-nominated dignity. Penn treats Indigenous rituals with groundbreaking authenticity while portraying General Custer as an egotistical megalomaniac heading toward slaughter. Released in late 1970, the film resonated profoundly with audiences processing the Vietnam War and the My Lai disclosures, cementing revisionist Westerns as essential political cinema.

Michael Lindsay-Hogg's raw documentary remains fascinating precisely because it captured the slow dissolution of the most important pop group on earth. Watching Paul McCartney strain for creative direction while John Lennon, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr visibly drift away provides an unvarnished study of fractured collaborative genius. Yet when the band climbs onto the chilly Savile Row roof, their undeniable musical alchemy ignites one last time. In 1970, this film functioned as an emotional postscript for an entire cultural decade, marking the definitive, melancholy closing chapter of the 1960s musical revolution.

Denis Sanders catches Elvis Presley shaking off a decade of hollow Hollywood formula to reclaim his throne during his sensational summer residency at the International Hotel. The camera floats intimately between sweaty, joyful rehearsal jams and high-voltage stage performances where Presley channels raw gospel, rhythm and blues, and orchestral pop. Clad in fringed white jumpsuits and backed by the peerless TCB Band, his charisma radiates unmatched athletic control. Amidst a turbulent year dominated by gritty downer cinema, this film celebrated pure rock theater, documenting the King at the absolute summit of his modern performance powers.

Brian G. Hutton takes a classic World War II reconnaissance mission and subverts it into a cynical, gold-hoarding heist picture driven entirely by self-interest. Clint Eastwood plays the deadpan planner, Telly Savalas provides the exasperated authority, and Donald Sutherland shines brilliantly as Oddball, a delightfully anachronistic, tank-driving hippie soldier. The film pairs explosive, large-scale combat staging with irreverent countercultural mockery of military hierarchy. Landing in 1970, it mirrored the growing anti-establishment disillusionment of its audience, demonstrating how commercial genre films were actively discarding clean wartime patriotism in favor of chaotic opportunism.

Enzo Barboni revitalized a dying European subgenre by turning the violent tropes of the Spaghetti Western completely upside down. Pairing Terence Hill as the sleepy, lightning-fast gunslinger Trinity with Bud Spencer as his gruff, horse-stealing brother Bambino, the production replaced nihilistic bloodbaths with choreographed barroom brawls and infectious physical comedy. The chemistry between the two leads proved electric, rescuing a town of peaceful Mormons through slapstick ingenuity rather than massacre. When released in late 1970, it became an unexpected box-office phenomenon across Europe, establishing a lucrative comedy blueprint that influenced popular Italian cinema for years.

Wolfgang Reitherman delivered Disney's first feature completed entirely after Walt Disney's death, crafting a breezy Parisian adventure packed with vibrant mid-century jazz rhythms. Led by Phil Harris's smooth alley-cat charm and Scatman Crothers's infectious musical set-piece 'Ev'rybody Wants to Be a Cat,' the picture leans into loose, character-driven charm rather than dense emotional drama. The sketchy, Xerox-line animation aesthetic gives Paris a warm, romantic texture. Standing alongside the heavy, cynical titles of 1970, this buoyant release preserved traditional family entertainment, demonstrating the studio's resilience during an uncertain transitional era.