JAMES CAMERON: RANKED
- 6 days ago
- 7 min read
James Cameron is one of those names that you can’t avoid if you care about modern movies, even if you’re someone like me who has a complicated relationship with the guy.
He’s not just “a director.” He’s a brand. He’s an industry. He’s a walking, talking technical revolution with a bullhorn, and somehow also a deep-sea explorer, because of course he is.
The man was born in Kapuskasing, Ontario on August 16, 1954, and he’s managed to turn himself into this larger-than-life figure who makes movies that don’t just succeed, they flatten everything in their path financially. He’s routinely listed among the highest-grossing filmmakers ever, with his films bringing in billions worldwide.
And look, I get it, I really do. On a purely mechanical level, the guy is impressive. He combines cutting-edge film technology with old-school, classical filmmaking discipline, and you can feel that engineer-brain humming under the hood even when the storytelling is driving me crazy.
He came up in that scrappy, grubby, brilliant training ground where you learn by doing, where you build things with your hands, where you steal shots and solve problems and figure out how to make the impossible work on a budget that’s basically pocket change.
He was doing effects work, miniature work, production design, hustling around the Roger Corman universe, getting his hands dirty, and that early go-for-it energy is real. That part of his career is fascinating to me because you can see the hunger. You can see the guy who’s going to will his way into the business even if it kills him.
Then comes the pivot. Then comes the power. Then comes the money. And that’s where I start to drift away from the Cameron worship, because I have never understood the near-religious reverence some people have for him as a storyteller.
Technician? Sure. Innovator? Absolutely. A guy who can stage action and suspense with the best of them? No question. But a great storyteller? For me, no. I don’t think any of his movies are great.
I think he’s made one movie that I absolutely love, and I still don’t think he’s ever topped The Terminator from 1984, back when he didn’t have unlimited resources, back when the limitations actually forced him to be lean, mean, character-driven, and inventive in a way he doesn’t always bother with anymore.
Because here’s what I think happens with Cameron: early on, there’s heart. There are human beings. There are characters you actually care about. There’s urgency. There’s that scrappy, slightly grimy charm where you can feel the effort in every frame.
And then, as the budgets balloon and the toys get shinier, the people in his movies start to matter less. The tech starts to matter more. The storytelling becomes this delivery system for “Look what I can do,” and after a while it feels like the emotional life gets sanded down and replaced with spectacle and volume and the kind of bigness that’s supposed to overwhelm you into submission.
Now, I’m not blind. I’m not sitting here saying the guy can’t direct. There are terrific action sequences in Aliens. There are genuinely exciting sequences in Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Parts of True Lies are technically impressive even if, yes, I’ve got serious issues with that movie.
And I will absolutely give him this: when Cameron locks in on suspense, choreography, pacing, the nuts and bolts of cinema, he can be extraordinary. The second half of Titanic, once the ship hits the iceberg, is incredible filmmaking. It’s suspenseful, dynamic, beautifully structured, and you can feel the control.
But then you’ve got the big problem with Cameron, the recurring problem, the problem that keeps popping up like a bad penny: the humans. The love stories. The relationships. The emotional connective tissue that’s supposed to make me care before the giant machinery starts falling apart.
Too often, for me, it’s corny, clichéd, and weirdly hollow, like he’s copying better movies and hoping the scale will distract you from the fact that the actual human story isn’t working.
And that’s why the Avatar situation completely baffles me. The popularity, the obsession, the money, the “this is the future of movies” rhetoric. These movies, to me, represent a hollow emptiness, a perfect storm of greed, tech worship, and recycled ideas dressed up in billion-dollar clothing.
Yes, the performance capture is impressive. Yes, the world-building is elaborate. Yes, the visuals are engineered within an inch of their lives. But I don’t go to the movies for a demonstration. I go for a story. I go for characters. I go for something human.
Give me a filmmaker like Robert Zemeckis when he’s on his game, someone who pushes technology forward but also tells stories worth telling. Cameron, too often, feels like a guy building the world’s most expensive theme park ride and then wondering why I’m not emotionally moved when the cart stops.
And the irony is, I’m also genuinely fascinated by the other Cameron. The deep-sea explorer. The National Geographic guy. The man who gets obsessed with shipwrecks and underwater tech and actually goes down into the darkness to see things most human beings will never see.
That’s admirable. That’s real curiosity. That’s a mind that doesn’t shut off. It’s part of why he’s such a strange, compelling figure: he’s both a filmmaker and this relentless explorer-nerd who won’t stop pushing into new frontiers.
But when it comes to the movies he directed, I’m still left with this feeling that the early hunger was the best version of him, and the later “rich guy with infinite toys” version is the one we’re stuck with now.
And yes, I will always, always be grateful to him for helping Kathryn Bigelow get movies made. Point Break is one of the best movies ever made, Strange Days is a masterpiece, and I love that he was involved in helping them happen. And that Oscar moment in 2010, when Bigelow beat him? Incredibly satisfying.
So that’s what this list is. It’s me wrestling with a filmmaker who is undeniably important, undeniably influential, undeniably successful, and yet, for me, profoundly uneven as an artist.
I’ve ranked all ten of his directed films in order of my preference, and you will notice a pattern. The scrappier, more human, more character-driven Cameron tends to rise. The tech-drenched, self-serious, mega-budget spectacle Cameron tends to sink.
And yes, the Avatar films are at the bottom, because I think they’re terrible, and I think they represent everything I hate about where Hollywood keeps steering the ship.
Alright. Here we go. In order of my preference, these are James Cameron’s ten movies, ranked by me.
JAMES CAMERON FILMS: RANKED (in order of my preference):
This is still the best movie James Cameron has ever made, and I don’t think he’ll ever top it. A lean, scrappy, low-budget miracle where everything he learned working for Roger Corman comes together with real energy, real heart, and real invention. Linda Hamilton and Michael Biehn are terrific, Arnold is perfectly cast, and the action is iconic without overwhelming the humanity.
This movie has soul, urgency, and genuine characters, something Cameron slowly lost as his budgets grew. It’s still a fantastic example of innovative, no-bullshit filmmaking, and yes, it’s better than the sequel.
This is the closest Cameron ever came to pulling off the movie he’s been chasing for decades. His obsession with the ocean, technology, and discovery actually aligns with a story that works, anchored by strong performances and real emotional stakes. The production was famously brutal, but the results are impressive, especially the groundbreaking effects and underwater sequences.
Unlike most of his later work, the characters matter here, and the tech serves the story instead of swallowing it. Both cuts work, and it remains a fascinating, ambitious film.
An undeniably entertaining action movie packed with great set pieces, impressive effects, and some legendary moments. Linda Hamilton absolutely carries the film, and Robert Patrick’s T-1000 is a terrific villain. When it’s firing on all cylinders, it’s thrilling, especially the chase sequences.
That said, it’s too long, emotionally thinner than the original, and already shows Cameron drifting toward spectacle over heart. Impressive, fun, but not the masterpiece many claim it is.
A big, loud, well-made action movie that trades the slow-burn horror of Alien for firepower and quips. Sigourney Weaver is excellent, the cast is fun, and some of the action sequences are genuinely great.
But the film is overlong, the villains are cartoonish, and the emotional logic doesn’t always track, especially regarding Ripley and Newt. Cameron turns a haunted house movie into a war film, and while it’s entertaining, I still prefer the original’s mood, restraint, and terror.
The first hour-plus is a slog with a corny, unconvincing love story and painfully broad characters. But once the ship hits the iceberg, the movie completely transforms. The final stretch is spectacular filmmaking: tense, thrilling, expertly staged, and technically astounding.
Cameron smartly explains the mechanics of the disaster early, allowing the chaos to unfold without exposition later. I don’t care about Jack and Rose, and I never will, but the last hour absolutely kicks ass.
Technically impressive with some huge, crowd-pleasing action sequences and stunts that deliver classic Schwarzenegger spectacle. Jamie Lee Curtis is the best thing in the movie and gives it much-needed humanity and humor. Unfortunately, the script is morally tone-deaf, deeply problematic, and loaded with misogyny, xenophobia, and lazy stereotypes.
There’s fun to be had in individual sequences, but the movie as a whole is a mess and another step away from character-driven storytelling.
Not a good movie, but an interesting one. This is young, hungry Cameron learning on the job, working for Roger Corman, and throwing everything he has at a ridiculous script.
It’s dumb, sloppy, and unnecessary, but there are flashes of technical ingenuity and energy that hint at what he’d later do better. As a career stepping stone, it makes sense. As a movie, it’s bad, but kind of fascinating in hindsight.
The least awful of the three Avatar movies, which isn’t saying much. A hollow recycling of Ferngully, Pocahontas, and countless other stories, dressed up in expensive, lifeless technology. It’s all tech, no soul, and nothing about it feels cinematic to me. This may be the future of blockbuster filmmaking, but it’s one I want no part of.
Everything wrong with the first movie, only longer and duller. Flat characters, weightless action that plays like a video game, and a staggering waste of talented actors. Whatever skill Cameron once had for staging action is completely absent here. It’s bigger, emptier, and even more tedious.
More of the same, only worse. It has the soul of a video game and the integrity of a theme park ride. Overlong, dumb, and utterly devoid of anything resembling cinema. If you want the full breakdown of my contempt for this movie, check out my December 19, 2025 capsule review.
This is Cameron fully transformed from filmmaker into tech mogul directing attractions, not movies. Disappointing, baffling, and one of the worst films of the year.
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