The 25 Best Second Movies From Breakout Directors

When your first film is ‘Hiroshima Mon Amour’ or ‘Eraserhead’ it sets an impossibly high bar – but these directors reached it

Laurence Fishburne in 'The Matrix' (Warner Bros.)
Laurence Fishburne in 'The Matrix' (Warner Bros.)

Success can be a double-edged sword. While every filmmaker would like their first movie to be a breakout success, those kinds of hits build expectation for their second feature, and not every director can navigate the artistic and industrial labyrinth that it takes to produce another instant classic.

Indeed, the perfect one-two punch is rarely achieved. Many of the best directors don’t start out with one of their finest or most successful films (James Cameron directed “Piranha 2: The Spawning,” David Fincher made “Alien 3”), those that do can’t always parlay that into a second success (Sam Raimi followed “Evil Dead” with the forgotten comedy “Crimewave,” Kevin Costner went from “Dances With Wolves” to “The Postman”).

But some filmmakers have managed to immediately capitalize on all that good will, directing a second great movie after their debut wins the hearts of critics and/or audiences. With “Past Lives” filmmaker Celine Song’s second film “Materialists” now in theaters, we’re pretty danged sure these are the best.

Nicolas Cage and Nicolas Cage in ‘Adaptation’ (Sony Pictures Releasing)

Adaptation. (Spike Jonze, 2002)

Spike Jonze’s sophomore feature, after a dazzlingly odd debut with 1999’s “Being John Malkovich, reunited him with eccentric screenwriter Charlie Kaufman. Somehow, “Adaptation” turned out even better, and arguably weirder, than the one about finding a portal to John Malkovich’s brain behind a filing cabinet. Nicolas Cage stars as Kaufman, who wrote a script about how hard it was to adapt Susan Orlean’s book “The Orchid Thief” instead of actually adapting Susan Orlean’s “The Orchid Thief.” Meryl Streep plays Orlean, Chris Cooper plays that pesky thief, and Cage also plays Charlie’s fictional brother Donald, who takes over the screenplay partway through the movie and changes everything around. Ambitious and brilliant filmmaking about filmmaking.

Fievel Moskowitz in ‘An American Tail’ (Universal Pictures)

‘An American Tail’ (Don Bluth, 1986)

Animator Don Bluth led a revolt against Disney animation in 1979, quitting the then-flailing company and founding his own studio, which debuted with the classic “The Secret of NIMH” in 1982, which raised the bar for American hand-painted films. His follow-up, “An American Tail,” was another instant classic, a saga about a Russian-Jewish family — animated here as mice — immigrating to America in the 1880s. Their son Feivel falls overboard and is presumed dead, and spends the rest of this beautifully-realized story trying to find his family again. Astoundingly animated and heart-wrenching cinema that brief established Don Bluth as the reigning king of American animated features until Disney got their act together with “The Little Mermaid,” and then used that renewed clout to undercut Bluth’s releases in the 1990s.

Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin in ‘Beetlejuice’ (Warner Bros.)

‘Beetlejuice’ (Tim Burton, 1988)

Another Disney animator who struck out on his own, Tim Burton made several short films before his comedy classic directorial debut, “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure,” in 1985. As delightfully strange as that “Big Adventure” was, it in no way prepared audiences for Burton’s next film: a comedy-horror phantasmagoria that flipped the script on the haunted house genre, focusing on how annoying it is for ghosts to deal with the living. Michael Keaton plays the title character, a comedic villain who rides a thin line between wacky and frightening, and the rest of the ensemble cast — Alec Baldwin, Geena Davis, Winona Ryder, Catherine O’Hara — somehow managed to get on the same bizarre wavelength. Visually enthralling and inventively told, “Beetlejuice” is still a stunner.

Anthony Michael Hall, Ally Sheedy, Judd Nelson, Emilio Estevez and Molly Ringwald in ‘The Breakfast Club’ (Universal Pictures)

‘The Breakfast Club’ (John Hughes, 1985)

Comedy writer John Hughes made his directorial debut with “Sixteen Candles” in 1984, establishing him as a hit filmmaker who focused on modern teen foibles. That film has not aged well, to say the least, and there are elements of his follow-up which are regrettable as well. But as a whole, “The Breakfast Club” represents one of the most powerful films ever produced about adolescence. A group of mismatched youths are forced into Saturday detention, and spend their time arguing, bonding, and learning harsh lessons about life. Painfully earnest, even beneath the laughs, “The Breakfast Club” also boasts one of the best teen casts ever assembled — Molly Ringwald, Ally Sheedy, Anthony Michael Hall, Emilio Estevez and Judd Nelson — all doing (arguably) their best work of the 1980s.

Holly Hunter, William Hurt and Albert Brooks in ‘Broadcast News’ (20 Century Fox)

‘Broadcast News’ (James L. Brooks, 1987)

James L. Brooks’s first feature, “Terms of Endearment,” wasn’t just an acclaimed Best Picture-winnner, it was also an enormous blockbuster (it’s the second highest-grossing movie from 1983, behind only “Return of the Jedi”). So the bar was set ludicrously high for Brooks’s follow-up. And he reached it, seemingly with ease. “Broadcast News” stars Holly Hunter as a serious news producer balancing two talented co-workers — a brilliant writer who lacks charisma (Albert Brooks), and a charismatic anchor who lacks brilliance (William Hurt). Brooks’s film is one of the best films ever made about journalism, packed with trenchant insights, fascinating characters and serious concerns about the devolving state of televised news.

Michael B. Jordan in ‘Creed’ (Warner Bros./MGM)

‘Creed’ (Ryan Coogler, 2015)

On the surface it’s a familiar story: a filmmaker makes a big splash with their indie debut, then directs a franchise sequel as their sophomore effort. That story doesn’t always end well, but Ryan Coogler made it work for him. After turning heads with the tragic “Fruitvale Station” in 2013, he co-wrote and directed “Creed,” a sequel to Sylvester Stallone’s Oscar-winning “Rocky” franchise that shifts the focus to the son of Apollo Creed, Rocky Balboa’s former nemesis and, later, close friend. “Creed” is a proud continuation of one of the great cinematic serials, casting Michael B. Jordan as a bastard son with something to prove, and Rocky as an aging fighter with something to teach and— when he’s diagnosed with cancer — something more to learn. Adonis Creed is one of the most iconic and fascinating modern movie heroes, and “Creed” is arguably on par with the original “Rocky” as one of the best sports movies ever made.

Richard Gere and Brooke Adams in ‘Days of Heaven’ (Paramount Pictures)

‘Days of Heaven’ (Terrence Malick, 1978)

Terrence Malick is considered one of the great poets of American cinema, and watching his first two films, it’s easy to see why. His debut “Badlands” is a haunting tale of teen love and mass murder, depicted as an elegiac travelogue. His second, “Days of Heaven,” comes across like an adaptation of one of the great American novels, even though it’s wholly original. Richard Gere and Brooke Adams play unmarried, nomadic lovers pretending to be siblings to stay together. When they’re hired to tend the fields of a rich, dying farmer, they conspire to have her marry him and wait for the inevitable. Except the power of love makes him want to live, ruining their plans. A gigantic film told in glances, with some of the must lush cinematography of the 1970s. Or ever.

John Hurt in ‘The Elephant Man’ (Paramount Pictures)

‘The Elephant Man’ (David Lynch, 1980)

Few filmmakers have as overwhelmingly distinctive a first feature as David Lynch, whose “Eraserhead” was a genre-defying nightmare about a father’s frustrated libido (and a myriad other things besides). Lynch’s second film was significantly more accessible, while also staying true to his overwhelming aesthetic. “The Elephant Man” stars Anthony Hopkins as a doctor who encounters a man with gigantic tumors in a traveling freak show, tries to save him from that humiliation, and winds up exploiting him in his own way. John Hurt plays the title character, John Merrick (his name was Joseph in real life), as a man whose life is completely transformed and just wants to exist with dignity, and gives a career-best performance.

Anne Bancroft and Dustin Hoffman in ‘The Graduate’ (Embassy Pictures)

‘The Graduate’ (1967, Mike Nichols)

The directorial debut from famed comedian Mike Nichols was hardly a barrel of laughs, but “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” was an incredible showcase, earning multiple Academy Awards after being nominated in every eligible category. Somehow his follow-up became even more iconic. “The Graduate” stars Dustin Hoffman as a recent college graduate who returns home and has an affair with an older woman, and then falls in love with her daughter. Awkward. “The Graduate” is an enduring dramatic comedy about the alienation of early adulthood, with unforgettable performances, one of the best soundtracks in film history (courtesy of Simon & Garfunkel), and no easy answers. So much of Nichols’ second feature has become part of the cultural lexicon that seeing it for the very first time in the 21st century is bound to feel like deja vu, and yet it’s still just as striking as ever.

Laurence Oliver in ‘Hamlet’ (Rank Film Distributors Ltd.)

‘Hamlet’ (Laurence Olivier, 1948)

William Shakespeare did not have an impressive history at the movies before Laurence Olivier took a crack at him, but Olivier sure as hell cracked the code. His first feature adapted “Henry V,” beginning backstage at the Globe Theater and gradually bringing the tale into more cinematic territory, until finally the battles were fought on location. For “Hamlet” he took more big swings, judiciously editing the play until it breezes by on the silver screen, and using voice-overs for soliloquies to enhance the interiority of the title prince’s personal conflict. Breathtakingly photographed, Olivier’s second film was the gold standard for “Hamlet” adaptations until Kenneth Branagh filmed the entire text in 1996, and some still think Olivier’s film has the edge.

Charles Grodin and Jeannie Berlin in ‘The Heartbreak Kid’ (Bristol Myers Squibb)

‘The Heartbreak Kid’ (Elaine May, 1972)

Elaine May, who coincidentally rose to comedic stardom as a duo with Mike Nichols, made her directorial debut with the 1971 dark comedy “A New Leaf,” starring Walter Matthau as a cad who intends to marry a wealthy woman (played by May), steal her money, and kill her if he has to. Although it was acclaimed upon its release the film was taken away from May in the editing room, dramatically changing the story. Her follow-up, “The Heartbreak Kid,” also ran into troubles with the studio but her version came out eventually. The comedic classic stars Charles Grodin as a man who regrets getting married in the middle of his honeymoon, because infatuated with a young Cybil Shepard, and ponders throwing everything away for a chance at true love… if he even knows what that is. A fantastic comedy that’s as sad as it is funny, and speaks volumes about male insecurity to this day.

‘Heavy Traffic’ (American International Pictures)

‘Heavy Traffic’ (Ralph Bakshi, 1973)

Ralph Bakshi helped shift the American perspective on cinematic animation with the X-rated 1972 comedy “Fritz the Cat,” about an oversexed anthropomorphic feline who thinks he’s socially conscious, yet actually knows nothing. His second film is a more personal tale about a (human) New York City cartoonist navigating a dog-eat-dog world, full of sexual kink and local criminality, trying to flee to California while his racist father tries to have him killed for dating a Black woman. “Heavy Traffic” belongs in the same conversation as “Mean Streets,” an earthy but human look at young men in New York making big mistakes on their path to their adulthood — or their deaths. It stands alongside Bakshi’s ambitious intergenerational musical “American Pop” as one of Bakshi’s most impressive works.

Clint Eastwood in ‘High Plains Drifter’ (Universal Pictures)

‘High Plains Drifter’ (Clint Eastwood, 1973)

Few actors have made as successful a transition from acting to directing as Clint Eastwood. After making his feature debut with the hit and widely acclaimed stalking thriller “Play Misty for Me,” the actor who made a name for himself with revisionist westerns like “A Fistful of Dollars” and “For a Few Dollars More” offered his own take with the genre. The incredibly acidic “High Plains Drifter” stars Eastwood as a violent drifter who gradually takes over a town full of murderers and corruption, repainting every building red and renaming it “Hell.” It’s one of the angriest westerns ever filmed, and proved that the future director of “Unforgiven” and “Mystic River” was only just getting started.

Martin Speer and Lance Gordon in ‘The Hills Have Eyes’ (Vanguard)

‘The Hills Have Eyes’ (Wes Craven, 1977)

This one is a bit of a cheat, but to be fair we don’t know any better. Wes Craven’s “official” debut as a filmmaker was 1972’s ultraviolent, politically charged “The Last House on the Left,” a remake of Ingmar Bergman’s “The Virgin Spring.” But before that the “Nightmare on Elm Street” and “Scream” director says he cut his teeth directing pornographic films — he just never said which ones. So technically “The Hills Have Eyes” probably isn’t Craven’s second feature film, but for all we know he made X-rated short movies, so maybe it is. In any case, “The Hills Have Eyes” is a horrifically bleak motion picture about a vacationing family running afoul of radioactive mutants in the desert, and it remains one of the Master of Horror’s scariest works.

Delphine Seyrig in ‘Last Year at Marienbad’ (Cocinor)

‘Last Year at Marienbad’ (Alain Resnais, 1961)

Alain Resnais had one of the most auspicious directorial debuts on record with “Hiroshima mon amour,” an absolutely vital cinematic classic about a French actress and a Japanese architect connecting over their overwhelming trauma from World War II. (When you see a black-and-white French film parodied in a cartoon, they’re usually riffing on “Hiroshima mon amour.”) His next film was even more oblique and ambitious. “Last Year at Marienbad” takes place in a cavernous luxury hotel, and tells the story of a man and a woman who might have had an affair, but might have never met. It’s a puzzle without any frame of reference, challenging the audience to find their own way through its liminal spaces and come to their own conclusions about what it is happening (or what never has). Resnais’ second film is a pinnacle of art house filmmaking, just like his first.

Saoirse Ronan in ‘Little Women’ (Sony Pictures Releasing)

‘Little Women’ (Greta Gerwig, 2019)

Another possible cheat here: Greta Gerwig officially made her directorial debut with the Oscar-nominated coming of age drama “Lady Bird,” but she’s also credited as co-director on the 2008 mumblecore film “Nights and Weekends.” We’ll consider her solo efforts a separate entity, especially since she’s such a singular filmmaker. Gerwig followed up “Lady Bird” with a brand new adaptation of one of the most beloved — and frequently adapted — books of all time, Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Women.” There are at least three other stone cold classic film versions of this 1868 novel, but Gerwig’s film finds new ways to approach the material, connecting the fictional story directly with Alcott’s own life, building upon relationships other versions left unexplored, acknowledging vital historical context, and topping it off with one of the best “have your cake and eat it too” endings ever devised. It may very well be the best “Little Women,” and of course that’s saying something.

Joseph Cotten and Agnes Moorehead in ‘The Magnificent Ambersons’ (RKO Radio Pictures)

‘The Magnificent Ambersons’ (Orson Welles, 1942)

Orson Welles’ first feature, “Citizen Kane,” is frequently — and rightly — considered one of the greatest movies ever made, if not the very best ever. His second feature might have surpassed “Kane,” but we’ll never know. The studio took advantage of Welles leaving the country to film a documentary in Brazil, dramatically re-editing the movie and forcing editor (and future Oscar-winning director) Robert Wise to film a newer, somewhat happier ending. And even after all that tinkering, “The Magnificent Ambersons” is, fittingly, magnificent. A dense and powerful tale of a wealthy American family destroying itself as it resists the march of progress and the possibility of true love. We’ll probably never see Orson Welles’ director’s cut — the studio literally destroyed the footage — but even the manhandled version we’ve got is exceptionally great.

Carrie-Anne Moss in ‘The Matrix’ (Warner Bros.)

‘The Matrix’ (The Wachowskis, 1999)

Lana and Lilly Wachowski made an arthouse splash with their sexy and thrilling debut “Bound,” starring Gina Gershon and Jennifer Tilly as an ex-con and a gangster’s trophy wife falling in love and conning the mob. Their next film was a giant leap forward, not just in budget, not just ambition, but for the film industry as a whole. “The Matrix” stars Keanu Reeves as a man who discovers that his whole oppressive reality, which is probably the one we all live in, is a computer simulation. That could have led to a heady mind-bender of a movie, and to be fair it totally did, but the Wachowskis found a way to organically fill “The Matrix” with awe-inspiring kung fu fights, breathtaking shootouts and groundbreaking visual effects — not to mention getting an elaborate, beautiful metaphor for the transgender experience into multiplexes and making audiences fall in love with (albeit often misunderstanding) everything it stands for.

John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson in ‘Pulp Fiction’ (Miramax)

‘Pulp Fiction’ (Quentin Tarantino, 1994)

Quentin Tarantino’s first film was very nearly a comedy called “My Friend’s Birthday,” but he never finished it. Instead he made the crime thriller “Reservoir Dogs,” which established him as an exciting new voice in American cinema, adopting and remixing elements from his various cinematic influences into a distinct entity, full of unforgettable characters and scenes. His follow-up took that ball and ran with it: “Pulp Fiction” is a collection of interwoven stories about criminals — small time crooks, big time hit men, a boxer willing to take a dive — that humanizes characters most movies write-off as simple clichés. In Tarantino’s world, the goons with guns have complex personalities too, and finally take center stage. It’s as alive as any film in the 1990s can claim to be.

Holly Hunter and Nicolas Cage in ‘Raising Arizona’ (20th Century Fox)

‘Raising Arizona’ (The Coen Brothers, 1987)

The Coen Brothers began their filmmaking career with 1984’s “Blood Simple,” a pitch black film noir that’s so complicated, literally none of the characters figure out what’s going on. They switched gears almost entirely with their sophomore film, “Raising Arizona,” an energetic kidnapping comedy starring Nicolas Cage as a small-time crook who marries a police officer, played by Holly Hunter. They can’t have children, so when a local millionaire has quintuplets, they decide he has more babies than he can handle and steal one. This was audiences’ first taste of the Coen Brothers’ goofy side, and it set the stage for all their classic comedies to come, with energetic cinematography, bizarre musical choices, and broad characters who you love no matter what they do.

Ellen Burstyn in ‘Requiem for a Dream’ (Artisan Entertainment)

‘Requiem for a Dream’ (Darren Aronofsky, 2000)

Darren Aronofsky’s first film was an ultra-low budget sci-fi film called “Pi,” about a brilliant mathematician who figures out an equation that predicts the stock market, and underlies our seemingly chaotic world. His follow-up was more grounded, but no less gritty. “Requiem for a Dream,” based on the novel by Hubert Selby Jr. (who co-wrote the screenplay), stars Jared Leto, Jennifer Connelly and Marlon Wayans as young heroin dealers whose lives are obliterated by their addiction. Ellen Burstyn co-stars as Leto’s mother, who becomes addicted to amphetamines when she finds out she will appear on television. There’s nothing romantic about Aronofsky’s portrayal of drug abuse, only despair — and despair has rarely been dramatized so desperately.

Mel Gibson in ‘The Road Warrior’ (Warner Bros.)

‘The Road Warrior’ (George Miller, 1981)

George Miller’s first film wasn’t just a hit, it was one of the biggest hits in history. Filmed for only $400,000 Australian dollars, the dystopian sci-fi actioner “Mad Max” went on to gross more than $100 million and become the most profitable film in history. Miller’s second feature, “Mad Max 2” (released as “The Road Warrior” in the United States), takes everything the original film laid out and hits the gas. Society is no longer collapsing, it’s dead as a doornail, with Earth transformed into a lifeless wasteland. “Mad” Max Rockatansky (Mel Gibson) gets roped into a conflict between a peaceful settlement and the supervillain Lord Humungous (Kjell Nilsson) over the priceless, possibly final supply of gasoline. “The Road Warrior” cemented the template for post-apocalyptic thrill-rides to this day, telling a gruff and grounded story and concluding with the most epic car chase in movie history — that is, until “Mad Max: Fury Road” came along.

Jason Schwartzman in ‘Rushmore’ (Touchstone Pictures)

‘Rushmore’ (1998)

Wes Anderson’s first film, the lo-fi crime comedy “Bottle Rocket,” doesn’t have the pristine polish of his later works, but it was a hit nevertheless and set the stage for a series of films about losers trying desperately to shape their own reality. His follow-up brought Anderson’s predilections into sharper focus: “Rushmore” tells the story of Max Fischer (Jason Schwartzman), a terrible student at a prestigious academy, who cares more about niche clubs and elaborate plays than schoolwork. When he falls in love with one of his teachers, he winds up in a misguided love triangle with a millionaire loser with no control over his life, played by Bill Murray. Bittersweet and brilliant, “Rushmore” was a turning point in Wes Anderson’s career. It almost seems as those Anderson’s future, increasingly arch films were as much directed by Max as they were by the maker of “Bottle Rocket.”

Queen Latifah in ‘Set It Off’ (New Line Cinema)

‘Set It Off’ (F. Gary Gray, 1996)

F. Gary Gray’s debut feature “Friday” is one of the seminal comedies of the 1990s, a stoner movie with energy and personality to spare. It in no way prepared us for his second feature, a powerful and exciting heist thriller starring Jada Pinkett, Vivica A. Fox, Kimberly Elise and Queen Latifah as working class women who turn to bank robbery when their lives collapse. Gray films the hell out of the heists in “Set It Off,” but that’s not the reason it’s a classic. The remarkable character work by this ensemble cast, and the thoughtful, penetrating exploration of the social failings that led them to this crime spree, also make “Set It Off” one of the very best heist films. Ever.

Jean-Claude Brialy and Anna Karina in ‘A Woman is a Woman’ (StudioCanal)

‘A Woman is a Woman’ (Jean-Luc Godard, 1961)

Jean-Luc Godard’s “Breathless” is one of the most significant movies ever made. It’s arguably an inflection point for cinema, along with the other geniuses in the French New Wave, in which the people who grew up watching movies finally became the filmmakers themselves. Godard’s second released film — he had already filmed “Le petit soldat,” but it wouldn’t be released for three years due to censorship — is also obsessed with style, but instead of gangster pictures, Godard is playing with early romantic comedies. Specifically, the randy early rom-coms by filmmakers like Ernst Lubitsch. Anna Karina stars as a stripper who wants a baby, but her boyfriend (Jean-Claude Brialy) is apathetic to the idea, and says she can let their friend Alfred (Jean-Paul Belmondo) do the deed if she wants him to. Jealousy sets in, but not tragedy — “A Woman is a Woman” is an eccentric little film, and a lot more understanding about romantic foibles than the moralizing Hollywood Production Code comedies of the era.

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