14 Best Michelle Williams Movies, Ranked

Michelle Williams always delivers grounded, deeply moving performances but is rarely showy about it. Her work with frequent collaborator Kelly Reichardt — including "Wendy and Lucy" and "Showing Up" — best illustrates this quiet brilliance. Reichardt makes minimalist, unhurried films that demand both precision and flexibility from her actors.

In addition to her films with independent directors like Reichardt, Williams also delivers exemplary turns in bigger films, which pair her king with legendary directors like Martin Scorses and Steven Spielberg. Her roles in Reichardt's "Certain Women" and Spielberg's "The Fabelmans" couldn't be more different, but her simultaneous sense of grace and familiarity are common threads. Even in her most theatrical performances -– notably "The Fabelmans" -– Williams always feels like a woman you could really know or someone you might see on the street.

Despite her status as a five-time Oscars nominee, Williams seems to somehow still fly under the radar, perhaps in part because she doesn't bring a movie-star persona to any of her roles — and that's a compliment. In celebration of her big-screen output to date, here are Michelle Williams' 14 best movies, ranked.

Me Without You

"Me Without You," an early Michelle Williams film, went sadly underseen. Written and directed by Sandra Goldbacher, the movie follows two friends, Holly (Williams) and Marina (Anna Friel), growing up in London in the 1970s. The girls make a pact to remain pals friends forever, but their wildly different personalities complicate that plan. Subdued and reliable Holly struggles to stand up to the while and unpredictable Marina.

Though it at times feels slightly disjointed, the film holds together thanks to the incisive performances by Williams and Friel. The actors do a wonderful job embodying a relationship that spans multiple decades, and their troublesome but always lived-in dynamic is fully compelling. Though Williams hadn't yet blossomed into the world-renowned actress we now know her to be, her sharp performance here was a definite step in the right direction following "Dawson's Creek," a show that never really utilized her to her full potential.

Wonderstruck

While far from Todd Haynes' most well-regarded film, "Wonderstruck" definitely merits digging into. The film tracks two different timelines, switching between them throughout. The first takes place in 1927 and centers on Rose, (Millicent Simmonds), a young girl in search of a mysterious actress named Lillian Mayhew (Julianne Moore). The second timeline unfolds in 1977 and puts the focus on Ben (Oakes Fegley), an orphan boy who runs away from home in order to find his father. Williams plays his recently deceased mother. Both children are deaf, and Rose's story is told entirely without dialogue as a means to reflect her reality.

The film is as visually sumptuous as we've come to expect from Haynes and finds him once again working with frequent collaborators, including cinematographer Ed Lachman, costume designer Sandy Powell, production designer Mark Friedberg, and composer Carter Brunwell. Simmonds –- who found major fame with "A Quiet Place" and will play Helen Keller in an upcoming biopic –- shines as Rose, and Williams gives a typically great performance as Ben's quiet, somewhat distant mother. The transition between the two timelines jars here and there, especially because their visual languages are so different, but overall it's a moving story and a deeply faithful adaptation of ​​Brian Selznick's eponymous novel.

Synecdoche, New York

Your opinion of "Synecdoche, New York" will likely hinge on your ability to tolerate indulgent self-hatred and despair. From writer and director Charlie Kaufman comes a decades-spanning psychological drama about a man who falls apart for the sake of art –- or perhaps because of it. Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Caden Cotard, a theater director whose wife (Catherine Keener) and daughter leave him. Lonely and dealing with mysterious health issues, Caden departs his hometown of Synecdoche for New York City, where he decides to mount a large-scale theater production that imitates his own life. Williams co-stars as Claire, an actress in his play with whom he starts an affair.

Watching "Synecdoche" resembles a punch to the stomach, which can either be cathartic or deeply unsettling — or perhaps both. The film blurs the distinction between fiction and reality to such an extent that it becomes more and more difficult to tell the difference between truth and delusion, which is, of course, precisely the point. Caden's life is deeply depressing, but the people around him may be just as deluded and lonely as he is. Hoffman wows in the lead role, but so does every actor around him, including Williams, whose transition from blushing ingénue to haggard and long-suffering muse is spellbinding, and Samantha Morton, whose eccentric Hazel ranks as perhaps the film's most fascinating character. It's certainly a divisive film and definitely not for everyone, but there's no room for equivocation when it comes to the talent of Williams and her fellow actors.

The Station Agent

"The Station Agent," a relatively quiet film, speaks volumes about human companionship. Peter Dinklage plays Fin, an antisocial man whose only real interest is trains. When he inherits an old train depot from his boss, he moves there in hopes of a life of solitude. Instead, new neighbors — the talkative Joe (Bobby Cannavale) and the grieving Olivia (Patricia Clarkson) — rudely interrupt his quiet. He also encounters a young girl named Cleo (Raven Goodwin) who shares his interest in trains, and the local librarian, Emily (Williams).

An exceedingly naturalistic exploration of the nature of connection then unfolds, as Fin finds it difficult to change his curmudgeonly ways but his new friends force him out of his shell. At the same time, Fin learns that no one around him has figured life out, either, but that it's best not to go it alone. "The Station Agent" feels like it easily could have been a play, rather than a film, but the performances are all so strong it doesn't matter what form the story takes. The only downside? Williams' love interest character is somewhat underwritten, especially compared to the three main characters, who are drawn with a lot of care. Per usual, though, Williams manages to do a lot with very little.

Dick

The goofy movie "Dick" proved that Williams truly possesses range. These days, most people associate Williams with characters of dignity and stoic strength, but "Dick" gave Williams a chance to flex her comedic muscles. Williams and Kirsten Dunst play Arlene and Betsy, two naive 15-year-olds living in Washington D.C. in 1972. Arlene resides with her mother in the Watergate Hotel, and when Betsy goes to visit her one evening, they stumble upon one of the greatest political scandals of the 20th century. In order to keep them from snitching, President Nixon (Dan Hedaya) appoints them honorary dog walkers. As they flutter around the White House, the two BFFs unwittingly bring about the beginning of the end of Nixon's presidency.

If "All The President's Men" was a little too serious for you, then "Dick" is the perfect alternative, more like "Clueless" than a political education. We do get to hear from Woodward and Bernstein, however. As hilariously portrayed by Will Ferrell and Bruce McCulloch, they're not quite the enterprising heroes we often imagine them to be. Meanwhile, our heroines are two innocent teenagers driven purely by curiosity and a taste for romance. Winning performances by Williams and Dunst complement the deceptively smart and surprisingly earnest script. They're utterly charming and just the right amount of peculiar. It may not be Williams' greatest film, but it shouldn't be overlooked, either.

Shutter Island

Williams has worked with some of our most visionary directors, including the great Martin Scorsese. In "Shutter Island," Leonardo DiCaprio plays U.S. Marshal Teddy Daniels, who travels to a mental hospital for the criminally insane alongside his partner, Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo). They've been sent to investigate the disappearance of a patient who looks to have vanished from a locked room. But as Teddy gets deeper into the perplexing case, he begins to suspect that not everything is as it seems. And what happened to Teddy's wife (Williams) and kids?

"Shutter Island" may not be on par with Scorsese's best works, but it's a highly entertaining if occasionally silly thriller with a masterful third-act twist that will leave your jaw on the floor. DiCaprio's performance is as fascinating as we've come to expect from the actor, and his old-school Boston accent delights. Williams breaks hearts as Teddy's overwhelmed wife, who has long suffered from mental illness without any respite. Her character embodies numerous classic (and probably overdone) movie tropes, but it's difficult not to empathize with her with Williams in the driver's seat. 

Brokeback Mountain

Most moviegoers remember "Brokeback Mountain" for its two male leads, and rightfully so. Based on a short story by Annie Proulx, the film peers into the lives of two men hired as sheep herders in Wyoming in the 1960s: confident and passionate rodeo cowboy Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal) and Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger), a soft-spoken ranch hand. While camping on Brokeback Mountain, Jack and Ennis begin an affair that continues on and off for the next 20 years, with devastating effects on them both.

Also along for the ride are Alma (Williams), Ennis' longtime girlfriend and eventual wife, and Lureen (Anne Hathaway), a rodeo queen who marries Jack. Though Jack and Ennis' passionate-yet-tortured love affair is the heart of the story, Williams and Hathaway bring added nuance with their layered performances. Williams -– by now an expert at playing long-suffering wives and mothers –- comes across as dignified and deeply mournful as Alma, which only heightens the tragedy.

"Brokeback Mountain" was one of the first gay films to achieve both significant commercial and critical acclaim, receiving eight nominations at the Oscars, including a nomination for best supporting actress for Williams. It's a deeply moving and heartbreaking picture, and it's to Williams' credit that she draws your eye to a secondary character.

Meek's Cutoff

Williams has teamed up with Kelly Reichardt more than any other filmmaker, and it makes sense, as the director's austere style and Williams' down-to-Earth approach mesh beautifully. "Meek's Cutoff" marked Williams' second film with Reichardt, and it follows a group of settlers traveling on the Oregon Trail in the 1840s. Stephen Meek (Bruce Greenwood), a guide who is probably less knowledgeable than he should be, leads the group. The settlers must decide whether or not to continue trusting Meek, and one of the wives (Williams) makes an unlikely alliance with a Native American (Rod Rondeaux) who is captured.

Like most of Reichardt's films, "Meek's Cutoff" moves at a very measured pace. Despite the lack of action, the movie ratchets up the tension and a pervading sense of dread keeps the viewer engaged. Far from romancing frontier life or Western imagery, Reichardt's take on the genre exposes the very shaky foundation on which these American myths are built. Williams' performance is just as much of a slow burn as the film. She initially appears as a docile, unassuming woman, but when things start to go south, she reveals an inner strength and determination that no one else in the group can match. 

Certain Women

Williams' third film with director Kelly Reichardt, "Certain Women" tells the story of four women leading ordinary existences. Set in Montana, where Williams herself grew up, the movie centers on Laura Wells (Laura Dern), an attorney who finds herself in the middle of a hostage situation, Gina (Williams), a wife and mother working to build her dream home, Jamie (Lily Gladstone), a ranch hand, and Beth (Kristen Stewart), a young lawyer teaching a night class. The women all contend with sexism, economic hardship, and loneliness as they forge ahead day by day.

"Certain Women" is a quiet film, in more ways than one. There is almost no musical score, and the story emphasizes the isolation these women experience even though relationships are a central theme. The film cycles through each story as it plods slowly along, and the three branches of the narrative exist alongside each other in muted contemplation. Williams, Dern, Stewart, and newcomer Gladstone all feel like actual members of a community, and their performances feel more like living than acting. It may be difficult for some to adjust to the film's snail-like pace, but there's no question it's something wholly unique.

Blue Valentine

One of Williams' most emotionally devastating films, "Blue Valentine" sees her, as Cindy, embarking on a tumultuous relationship with Ryan Gosling's character, Dean. A young couple who fall madly in love, Cindy and Dean get married and move to the suburbs, but life gets in the way and things start to deteriorate.

While not an overly melodramatic tale, "Blue Valentine" is profoundly sad. Both characters spend much of the film struggling to achieve any sort of peace or happiness and almost always land short of that goal. It can be a difficult watch at times, but Williams and Gosling deliver exceedingly powerful performances that demand your attention. On the one hand, it's a rather cynical look at relationships that might have you thinking that true love doesn't exist. But, at the same time, it's a painfully honest depiction of human fallibility and the ugly truth of how much we can hurt one another. Whichever way you spin it, "Blue Valentine" packs an emotional gut punch and makes great use of its lead actors.

Showing Up

"Showing Up" may be one of Kelly Reichardt's most plot-heavy outings, though that's not saying much. Williams plays Lizzy, a sculptor working on a new show while dealing with distracting dilemmas involving family and friends. When not sculpting, Lizzy works at an art school in Portland for her mother (Maryann Plunkett) and worries about her brother, Sean (John Magaro). One of the biggest sources of tension in Lizzy's life is the presence of her neighbor and friend, Jo (Hong Chau). Jo and Lizzy are opposites;  while Lizzy exudes nervous energy and finds her daily life somewhat taxing, Jo does everything naturally.

In addition to being a rare Reichardt film with a moderately hefty plot, "Showing Up" also rates as the most comedic of Reichardt's projects. Chau amuses as Jo, and Lizzy's interactions with those around her have a dry, witty edge to them. Like Lizzy's sculptures, the film is delicate yet tangible, uncommon yet fully rounded. Williams' Lizzy is a tricky and barbed character, yet also empathetic because it is so clear how much her art means to her. It's probably Reichardt's most accessible film, which doesn't take anything away from her unique vision but hopefully opens up her work to a wider audience.

Manchester by the Sea

"Manchester by the Sea" explores grief, regret, and loneliness, three topics Williams has often found herself intimately engaged with. Kenneth Lonergan trains his camera on Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck), who finds himself the sole guardian of his teenage nephew (Lucas Hedges) after the death of his older brother (Kyle Chandler). He moves from Boston back to his hometown of Manchester-by-the-Sea, a small fishing village. While struggling to reckon with his own sadness and that of his nephew, Lee also must face the people he left behind, including his ex-wife, Randi (Williams).

Given the focus on the ravages of grief, "Manchester by the Sea" is far from an easy watch. The characters are in so much pain, and it radiates off them in nearly every scene. Lee in particular is a broken man, and Affleck fully embodies him with all his ragged edges. Lucas Hedges is equally brilliant as Lee's anguished and angry nephew, and they play off each other beautifully. The film wouldn't be complete without Williams, who is just as broken as Lee but has clearly been forcing herself to hold it together. The main reason "Manchester by the Sea" doesn't top the list? It's more Affleck's film than Williams', which doesn't diminish her contributions.

Wendy and Lucy

"Wendy and Lucy" represents the pinnacle of Kelly Reichhardt's efforts to depict loneliness on screen. Williams plays Wendy, an impoverished vagabond traveling around Alaska looking for work. Wendy's only friend is her dog, Lucy, and when her car breaks down and the police arrest her, she briefly loses custody of Lucy. When she returns from jail, Lucy is gone, and Wendy puts everything on the line to find her.

It is in no way hyperbole to say that Williams carries this film on her back. She is in every single scene, and she makes Wendy so achingly vulnerable and lost that it just breaks your heart to watch her. Utterly tragic and quietly haunting, "Wendy and Lucy" is fluidly expressive without explicitly saying much at all. Everything we need to know reads on Williams' expressive face, which tells us not only how Wendy exists in the world but what the world has done to her. "Wendy and Lucy" is compassionate without being didactic and distressing without being maudlin. A lesser performer wouldn't be able to handle a role this demanding, but Williams pulls it off with naturalistic precision, earning the film its prized place in her filmography.

The Fabelmans

Williams has received many honors in her career, but few have been as meaningful as Steven Spielberg hand-picking her to play his mother in "The Fabelmans." Based on his own childhood and young adult life, Spielberg's most personal movie yet pays moving tribute to family and the passions -– and pitfalls -– of a life filled with art. Williams plays Mitzi, a fictionalized version of Spielberg's beloved mom. A talented pianist who gave up on her dream of becoming a professional musician to raise a family, Mitzi is a kindhearted but often mercurial figure who harbors her own secret dreams and desires. Her movie-obsessed son Sammy (Gabriel LaBelle) starts making films from a young age, with the full support of his very proud mother.

"The Fabelmans" is about a young artist coming into his own artistic perspective, but it is also a story about a son and mother. Though technically a secondary character in Sammy's (admittedly self-constructed) narrative, Mitzi is the most central figure in his life, and in Williams' hands, she is electric and alive on the screen, and also far from perfect. When Sammy learns one of her biggest secrets, it nearly severs their relationship.

On the surface, "The Fabelmans" might seem like a simple, easy-to-digest coming-of-age story. But upon further inspection, it is a complex, knotty fiction about the falsity of memory and how art can destroy as much as it can create. Williams is the heart of this moving story, and it's her best project to date.