14 Underrated '70s Movies That You Need To See

The 1970s were a special time in American cinema. After the box office woes of the 1960s, bewildered studio executives were unsure of how to connect with audiences, whose tastes and impulses were shifting in the hectic milieu of that decade. The change began at the tail end of the previous decade with "The Graduate," "Bonnie and Clyde," and "Midnight Cowboy," all of which pushed boundaries regarding sex, sexuality, and violence. It was Dennis Hopper's "Easy Rider" that would set the mold of "New Hollywood," a period in which studios afforded even the most difficult directors unprecedented creative freedom. 

From the summer of 1969 until some time in the early 1980s (the exact timeframe is disputed), "New Hollywood" birthed scores of classics from a generation of new talent, the most famous of which included William Friedkin, Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, and Steven Spielberg, to name just a few. Anyone who is new to the films of the 1970s can tackle the big stuff — "The Godfather," "Taxi Driver," et al. — but there is still a wealth of material to explore, including plenty of "underrated" surprises, which often bring the most satisfaction. It can be difficult to know where to start, so here are 14 underrated '70s movies that you need to see.

"Thunderbolt and Lightfoot" is a crime comedy that pairs Clint Eastwood with a young Jeff Bridges. It's an unlikely dynamic but they play off each other well, with Eastwood flexing his street-smart shtick while Bridges plays the youthful punk. Together, the rogues plan a heist involving the use of an autocannon. This may seem trite after "Lethal Weapon" and numerous other buddy films, including Eastwood's misfire "The Rookie," yet "Thunderbolt and Lightfoot" has retained its quality. In fact, since Jeff Bridges became a star in his own right, the curious pairing has only become more interesting.

The film also showcases writer/director Michael Cimino. In contrast to his later projects — namely "The Deer Hunter" and "Heaven's Gate" — "Thunderbolt" has a much lighter tone. It's a crime caper and a road movie with a real sense of fun and adventure. How underrated is "Thunderbolt and Lightfoot"? In 1974, it was hard to make the case that it was underrated at all. It did reasonably well at the box office and most critics were positive (via Box Office Mojo/Rotten Tomatoes). Bridges even earned an Oscar nomination for best actor in a supporting role. Some 50 years later, with under 26,000 votes on IMDb, it seems that the caper has been relegated to secondary status.

You don't have to mix drinks to get a hangover, just watch "Wake in Fright," the demented Australian psychodrama from 1971. Set in Bundanyabba, a tough mining town in the outback, it is about isolation, nihilism, and soaking your brain/liver with gallons of alcohol. John Grant (Gary Bond) is our protagonist in this vast dust bowl. A British school teacher, Grant is obliged by the conditions of a student loan to teach in the remote settlement of Tiboonda, which is just down the tracks from Bundanyabba. Lonely and disaffected, Grant heads for "The Yabba” on the first day of the Christmas holidays.

His plan is to fly to Sydney, where he will reunite with both his girlfriend and modern civilization. However, after losing all his cash in a game of two-up, Grant begins a surreal descent into the Yabba's crazed milieu. Of all the town's dubious characters, none are more unhinged than Doc (Donald Pleasance), who describes himself as "a doctor of medicine and a tramp by temperament." After a whole day of boozing, Grant wakes in Doc's home, which is a filthy metal shack with soiled walls and blocked windows. You can feel the oppressive heat as Grant rises from the dank mattress, flies buzzing over his thumping head. This is no time for moderation, though. Doc hands Grant a bottle of stale beer and prepare him for a night of fighting, drinking, and a brutal kangaroo hunt, pushing the Englishman to the edge of sanity. 

In late 1971, director Don Siegel was enjoying the success of "Dirty Harry," the iconic neo-noir starring his friend and directorial protégé Clint Eastwood. However, when Siegel approached Eastwood with the titular role in "Charley Varrick," the trigger-happy star declined because he could find no redeeming features in the character whatsoever. Eastwood had a point. Charley Varrick is a career thief who operates with total amorality. He's not a hero, but he's no mad villain either. Varrick is an engineer among criminals who plans and executes his robberies with workmanlike efficiency. He seems to harbor no malice or prejudice. In fact, he doesn't seem to harbor any emotion at all. Instead, Varrick exhibits an understated self-interest that's always moving him forward.

This profile was a little too hard-boiled for Eastwood, yet the actor and comedian Walter Matthau — who had just completed a string of comedies including "Hello, Dolly!" — had no such reservations. Matthau would do a fine job, lending inscrutable charisma to Varrick as he flees both the cops and the mob in an adventurous yarn marked by betrayal, reversals of fortune, and hard-nosed improvisations that keep you on your toes. 

Alfred Hitchcock can hardly be considered an underrated director. However, even the "master of suspense" has at least one overlooked gem, and it came very late in his career. Hitchcock was in his early '70s when he arrived in London to film "Frenzy," a thriller about a serial killer and an RAF veteran framed for his murders. The aging director may have been in his twilight years, but he had lost none of his edges. In fact, Hitchcock embraced the shifting standards of New Hollywood and depicted some of the strongest violence and nudity of his career. 

The infamous suspense was back, too, especially in a desperate scene involving the killer, a corpse, and a moving lorry which ranks among Hitchcock's best sequences. "Frenzy" also serves as a time capsule for a bygone London in its depiction of Covent Garden as a functioning market, a purpose that has long been replaced by tourism and hospitality.

"Night Moves" is a brilliant neo-noir that teems with salacious, jaded energy. It is host to a whole gallery of dubious characters and each one of them feels like a real, complex person. Gene Hackman may be the lead actor, but the performances are so on point that "Night Moves" is effectively an ensemble piece. Two of the strongest supporting characters are Paula (Jennifer Warren), a practical woman with a checkered past, and Arlene Iverson (Janet Ward), a psychopathic gold digger steered by greed and lust. Both could have been stereotypes, with Paula amounting to a stock femme fatale and Arlene some sort of Norma Desmond caricature. Instead, they're both written and performed with detail and humanity, giving them depth and credibility while leaving you unsure of what they're all about.

This is especially true of Paula. She's tough, cagey, and has questionable intentions toward Harry Moseby (Hackman). Yet there is vulnerability to her and a real sense that she has led a dangerous life in and around the fringes of society. There is vulnerability to Moseby as well, despite Hackman's typically robust screen presence. The subplot involving his unfaithful wife Ellen (Susan Clark) has heart and tension to it. All of this character work builds up to an explosive ending that cements "Night Moves" as one of the finest neo-noirs of the 1970s.

Adapted from the novel "Ripley's Game" by director Wim Wenders, "The American Friend" concerns the dark, nihilistic freedom that may come with a terminal disease. Set in Hamburg, Germany, it is a film rich in ambiance and intrigue, both in its slow-burn energy and the captivating performances from Dennis Hopper and Bruno Ganz. Jonathan Zimmermann (Ganz) is a German picture framer who believes that his leukemia is catching up with him, so what does he have to lose? This is Zimmermann's reasoning when he accepts a lucrative offer to shoot a French gangster, the enemy of Raoul Minot (Gérard Blain) and his associate Tom Ripley (Hopper), an American art forger.

Initially, relations between Ripley and Zimmerman are frosty, but the latter's health anxiety loosens his dim judgment of the American (whose hand he once refused to shake) owing to the forger's corrupt reputation. Soon, the men earn each other's respect as they break laws and break bones, descending ever further into serious criminality across France and Germany. Yet there is a crucial dramatic irony here, as Zimmerman is not aware of Ripley's knowledge of his "leukemia." "The American Friend" stays firmly within "great film" territory for some 90 minutes of its two-hour running time. The camerawork is artful, the performances are charismatic, and there are some terrific set pieces, especially a daring mission on a cross-country train. It compromises its force in the messy final act, but "The American Friend" remains an underrated gem.

No, this film is not about Wakanda. It's about a man called Donald Neilsen from Bradford, England. In the early 1970s, Neilsen embarked on a spree of burglaries across the country. When these were no longer lucrative, Nielsen armed himself with a sawed-off shotgun and began raiding post offices, murdering those who defended their property. Dressed in black and light on his feet, the media called him the "Black Panther" (via BBC). Neilsen was caught in December 1975 and sentenced to life the following summer. Then, in December 1977, a mere 18 months after Neilsen's sentencing, Ian Merrick's "The Black Panther" was released in UK cinemas.

The production's haste and content were criticized by several media figures, whose self-righteous opposition caused numerous local councils to ban public screenings. When the fiery news cycle had passed, Merrick's low-budget film had been relegated to the archives of British independent cinema. It is only in the last 10 years that "The Black Panther" has received the release it deserves. Far from being any sort of exploitation film, "Panther" is a realist drama about a vicious, angry man. Neilsen is played by Donald Sumpter, whose distinctive face you may recognize from "Game of Thrones." Sumpter brings a morose, sullen energy to Neilsen, whom he portrays as a charmless and embittered patriarch fuelled by spite and money. It's a brilliantly understated performance that anchors the film's cold, documentary style.