What do you do when you want to make a movie, but don’t have any of the traditional resources to make a movie? You make the fucking movie anyway.
Robert Rodriguez, born in Texas in 1968, loved cinema from a young age. The moment he could, he grabbed a camera and filmed everything he could in precociously cinematic style (it would be fair to call Rodriguez one of the chief “video store” auteurs; a director who got his style not from formal training, but from absorbing movie after movie after movie). In 1991, the college student Rodriguez made an award-winning short film calledBedhead. That earned him enough attention to cultivate his filmmaking career more seriously, and he began working on his debut feature film, which took a ton of blood, sweat, tears, and literal body experimentations (more on that later).
That film, 1992’sEl Mariachi, catapulted Rodriguez into Hollywood’s radar, kickstarting a long, prolific, eclectic, and utterly personal directing career. Or, should I say “filmmaking” career? Rodriguez became known for his “one man crew” style of working, in which he not only directed and wrote, but also liked to serve as his films' cinematographer, camera operator, editor, visual effects supervisor, and composer. Even on the films in which other folks take these key collaborative positions, you can feel Rodriguez’s personality shine through brightly and extensively. These films are “his” in a way they simply aren’t for other directors.
In honor ofFrom Dusk till Dawn’s 25th anniversary (and including his most recent work, 2020’s Netflix filmWe Can Be Heroes), we thought it best to pay tribute to Rodriguez, his inspiring story, and his idiosyncratic body of work by ranking each and every one of them, from worst to best. A few notes for clarification on this process: Short films, likeBedheadand his segment in the anthology filmFour Roomsare out; films that he co-directed are in; and two finished feature-length films,Red 11and100 Years, could not be viewed nor considered for this list, for wildly different reasons (the former because it hasn’t moved to its alleged exclusive streaming home of Tubi yet; the latter because it isn’t scheduled to come out until literally 2115). If and when these become available to watch, I shall, and rank them accordingly.
For now, grab your cowboy hat, tune up your guitar, and tap into your inner rebel. These are the films of Robert Rodriguez, ranked. For more directorial ranking, here’s our take onWalter Hill’s filmography.
19. Sin City: A Dame to Kill For
I would go so far as to call this film “repugnant”! The delayed sequel to one of Rodriguez’s most notable films,Sin City: A Dame to Kill Fordoubles down on co-directorFrank Miller’s predilection for problematic portrayals of, like, everything, without any sense of craft or intention to lift it up. Released nine years after the originalSin City, the “everything green-screened and comic-ified” aesthetic remains the same, but somehow worse, cheaper, more garish, and sloppier looking. With the exception ofEva Green, who always has the most absolute fun on screen, the returning and new actors are plodding through the hardboiled motions, grumbling and groaning their way through stories that just don’t need to be adapted on screen. The original, while episodic, does give each character a satisfying arc and journey to go on; to see these weird dives back in feels like cheating on what I enjoyed about the original picture. That is, when I’m not visibly recoiling at its aesthetic and tonal ugliness. Hard pass!
18. The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl
In the middle period of his career, Rodriguez started shifting away from his hard-R B-movie bread and butter, and shifting toward visual effects-laden family films. The nadir of this Rodriguez mode of filmmaking is undoubtedlyThe Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl. First and foremost — Rodriguez got many of the mythologies and story elements from his children, and the fact that Rodriguez’s films are so often such personal family affairs really makes my heart sing. Having said that, I wish he would’ve coalesced them into a tighter, more consistent, and more thematic statement of intent. AsSharkboy and Lavagirlimplies from its two disparate main characters' (Taylor LautnerandTaylor Dooley) titular powers, there’s not a ton about the film that makes sense in any kind of puzzle piece next to each other. Instead, it feels like it’s playing with one puzzle for three seconds, before chucking it to the side and playing with nineteen other puzzles. I wish it played like “the filmic personification of unbridled childhood glee,” but its screenwriting impatience coupled with the ghastly cheapness of many of the visuals just make it all feel slapdash, even amateurish. There’s something worthwhile in the exploration of our main character’s (Cayden Boyd) status as a loner, a rebel, a dreamer, an artist (a common theme in Rodriguez’s protagonists), and his exploration through his inner traumas via creations (i.e. rowing a boat down a literal stream of consciousness), but it just feels like more strong sauce added to a mess of a meal.
I will say this, however:George Lopezplays a villain named Mr. Electric, which is his face blown up inside of a strange electric circle. At one point, he says “Watt’s up?” then spends a full minute explaining that joke, and then abruptly pulls out a bucket full of electric eels. This is all Objectively Good.
17. Spy Kids 2: The Island of Lost Dreams
There are pervasively enjoyable elements throughoutSpy Kids 2: The Island of Lost Dreams— and starting right the heck onBill Paxtonchewing the hell out of some scenery as a Southern-fried amusement park owner seems to promise we’ll be moving forward with a fun, assured foot. But it all gets bobbled and jumbled in the classic sequel problem of too many things, too large an increase in scope, and a seemingly intentional forgetfulness of the tight emotional focus that made the first one work so well. There’s a ton of “stuff” going on in this flick, and a lot of that “stuff” will entertain you, no doubt.Ricardo MontálbanandHolland TaylorasCarla Gugino’s disapproving parents?Steve Buscemiinsisting “I’m not a loon” while obviously acting like a Dr. Moreau-inspired loon? Two obnoxious rival Spy Kids,Matt O’LearyandEmily Osment?Mike Judgeperforming acts of corporate subterfuge?Daryl Sabaraon a star-crossed lover’s journey with the First Daughter,Taylor Momsen?Danny Trejorevealing more depth about his Machete character (more on him later)?
This “stuff” is all technically “fun”. But absolutely exhausting. And I haven’t even gotten into the plot mechanics, weird CGI-addled mythologies, and endless MacGuffins powering the nuts and bolts of this thing. In throwing all these toys at the screen, Rodriguez loses the thread of what made the first one stay so powerful, even while we’re sorta having fun on the roller coaster of it all.
16. We Can Be Heroes
We Can Be Heroestakes a lovely, inspiring, and surprisingly political message and turns it into an unfortunately boring film. Taking place in the same universe asSharkboy and Lavagirl, this Netflix movie imagines a world chock full of adult superheroes, chucks them out of commission, and makes their children have to pick up the pieces, save the day, and grow up along the way. I love Rodriguez’s love of progressivism, of making every child feel special, and of sticking it to incompetent adults (and presidents) in a way most kids' movies would never dream of. But he communicates it all tactlessly, staging these themes and ideas as “themes and ideas” to be stood around and discussed in repetitive, too-long sequences. When the set pieces do occur, they retain Rodriguez’s family-friendly “handmade” visual effects, but with an obvious benefit of technological progression; and it’s very fun to watch his cast of children empower themselves into action sequences just by being who they are. But so much of the film is stuck in a “tell don’t show” mode, feeling oddly didactic and at times frightening in its blunt statements of truth about the world and its downward trajectory (an ending speech, meant to inspire, just made me more scared). It’s hard for me to be too mad at a film so designed to tell kids they are the future. I just wish the design had a few more coats of paint on it.
15. Roadracers
The origin story ofRoadracers, Rodriguez’s little-seen made-for-TV movie, is something that feels custom-tailored for the auteur’s specific impulses. In 1994, genre producing legendDebra Hill(Halloween) created a unique Showtime series calledRebel Highway, in which established genre directors likeJoe DanteandMary Harronwould get the title of an older B-movie, and quickly shoot a new movie with the hot young actors of the moment. Low budgets, low studio pressure, high creative control, beefed up updates of classic genre cinema proclivities — this should be a knockout for Rodriguez, right?
Unfortunately,Roadracers(based on a 1959 film of the same title) plays mostly like a demo, a sandbox for Rodriguez to experiment in that doesn’t vault past its experimental nature in any meaningful way. There’s a ton of cool, of attitude, of “vibe” in this picture — it’s the first one Rodriguez made after his one-man-crew debutEl Mariachi, and you’re able to feel the cocky brashness in every budgetary increase in production design, in sets at his disposal, in working with a separate DP for once (Roberto Schaefer, who applies a noticed and appreciated sheen to Rodriguez’s love of kinetic flourishes). Many of Rodriguez’s pet obsessions are given their strongly defined introductions or revisitiations — rebel loner artist heroes! ’50s rockabilly culture! a love of B-movies to the point where the characters literally watchInvasion of the Body Snatchersand that film’s actor stares straight at the camera! — but it all feels stagnant, annoyingly cyclical, without dynamics or movement. Perhaps this is an intentional move, to communicateDavid Arquette’s feeling of stagnation as immersively as possible. But it all yields a film that plays merely as artifact, as promise, as curious history in the filmmaker’s body of work.
14. Spy Kids 3: Game Over
Spy Kids 3: Game Over, to its credit, simplifies its narrative approach and tells one clean, tight story; a welcome respite after the chaos ofSpy Kids 2. Just whenDaryl Sabarathinks he’s out of the spy game (in a delightfully performed cold open in which Sabara does his best “noir gumshoe” impression, to the point where there’s a literal “gum shoe” gag that got me good),Salma HayekandMike Judgeget him back in. There’s a hot new video game in town, and wouldn’t you know it, its captured Sabara’s spy sisterAlexa Vegawithin its digital prison. Sabara must traverse through the game,Tronstyle, save his sister, and save the day while beating the various game levels!
ThankGodfor this simplicity; it makes all of the wild, garish CGI much easier to swallow, and gives Rodriguez’s love of bonkers world-building an understandable tether. It’s a pity, then, that this narrative sidelines and damsel-in-distresses the franchise’s best character, Vega’s Carmen, and problematically turns the franchise’s final chapter (at the time) into a “boy saves sleeping girl chosen one” story, when it started with such a strong statement of female empowerment and agency. There are still some effective emotional and familial statements being made in the picture —Ricardo Montalbán’s meta speech about being powerful despite being wheelchair-bound, and the film’s final vow “to family” — that give it all a welcome series of closure. And, I cannot lie, the various zippy, easy-to-follow set pieces involving different video game levels and doofy characters are fun as heck (and a nice hint, both aesthetically and narratively, at what Rodriguez will do later inAlita: Battle Angel). But I still walk away from this third chapter feeling shallow, feeling like the promise of the first installment was not fulfilled here.
I will say this, however:Sylvester Stalloneplays the film’s villain, a game developer who has split himself into four personalities, giving Stallone a chance to work on hisSNLcharacter audition reel. This is all Objectively Good.
13. Machete Kills
There’s one thing you do not want from a film calledMachete Kills, a purposefully hyperbolic grindhouse sequel starringDanny Trejoas an immortal (?!) hero who kills everyone in his wake with a machete, and that is to be “forgettable.” And yet,MKsomehow commits this cardinal sin, despite being stuffed with imagery that you would find in a dictionary definition under “wild.“Charlie Sheencredited asCarlos Estevezas the President?Mel Gibsonas anElon Muskcypher peddling sci-fi leaning technologies? Elon Musk literally making a cameo in the final moments?Sofia Vergaraliterally doing the “Fembot breast machine gun” gag fromAustin Powers? A killer named El Chameleón that’s played by four different famous people, includingLady Gaga?! How on earth could this be forgettable?
Perhaps it’s because Rodriguez, likeSpy Kids 2before, un-streamlines the tight focus of the firstMacheteto stuff his sequel with too much “stuff” and not enough “structure.” There’s a sense of “I’m gonna do what I want” in the picture, a mode that usually works like gangbusters for Rodriguez’s highly personal-feeling films. But the sense of filmic glee is missing. It all feels perfunctory, not just in its moves' relationship to the plot, but in every player’s execution of the moves. Enthusiasm goes a long way for Rodriguez, especially when he’s working in B-movie action mode;Machete Killsfeels like everyone showed up for work, did their level best as a professional, than went home. No fire, despite all its scattershot movements. Still: For a competent-enough “TNT afternoon” action watch,Machete Kills… well, it has a perfectly serviceable set, even if I wouldn’t call it “killing.”
12. The Faculty
The Facultyfeels like the next logical step for the filmmaker who madeRoadracers, not who made theEl Mariachifranchise.Kevin Williamson’s script, like hisScreamandI Know What You Did Last Summerbefore, is a carefully crafted “self-aware cynical Gen-X genre-savvy” piece of work, a slick feat of narrative engineering that uses “personal touches” like pieces of fashion rather than pieces of personality. As such, I never really get to know any of the characters in the film, either the students or the teachers, and while they all have moments of “horror iconography” that certainly explain why the film remains a cult hit, the emotional moves (and even ironic kills) don’t track because we can’t keep track of them.
While Rodriguez does get some great, and again, instantly iconic performances out of his actors (all hailBebeNeuwirth), he unfortunately doesn’t find too many reasons for their behavior beyond the surface. LikeRoadracers, it’s a film obsessed with the boredom of youth, the rebellion against oppressive adults, and quite explicitly, the alien abduction of said adults by aliens (ifJohn HawkeslovedInvasion of the Body SnatchersinRoadracers, he’d spontaneously combust after a viewing ofThe Faculty). And likeRoadracers, it’s a slick, easily watchable ride that keeps spinning in circle after circle, feeling both stuck in its limitations and eager to jump to new ones without understanding why it got there. You will have a good time watchingThe Faculty, and you will especially enjoy some of the beefed-up ways Rodriguez stages his kills and scares (including some CGI that looks better than much of his modern CGI). But I just don’t see it sticking to your bones, I just don’t see its characters becoming memorable, and I especially don’t see how anyone could enjoy its problematic, out-of-nowhere, male wish-fulfillment ending, ending anElijah Woodarc that simply never began.
I will say this, however:Christopher McDonaldsports a goatee inThe Faculty. This is all Objectively Good.
11. Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Once again, Rodriguez stuffs a sequel with too much stuff. InOnce Upon a Time in Mexico, the mythically-titled conclusion of hisMariachitrilogy, Rodriguez reaches for a plot and for imagery that goes “straight to the top,” both in terms of its conspiracy thriller “everyone in power is corrupt” shenanigans and in terms of its desire to be considered a grand, mythological conclusion. When Rodriguez can get out of the way of his own script, boy howdy does this thing purr. The opening action scene is Rodriguez andAntonio Banderas' “Dylan Goes Electric” moment; for two films, we’ve seen our Mariachi work solely with acoustic guitars, and to see him shoot up the place with a thrilling jolt of electricity is thrilling. Action sequences throughout are put together with shirt-grabbing panache, and while the fully digital production workflow sacrifices some of the tactile grit we saw in the first two films, it replaces it with a sense of unlocked ingenuity and imagination (i.e. the “chain” action sequence that reminds me of a video game in the best way). And, obviously,Enrique Iglesiasflame-throwing people with his guitar case is about as Objectively Good as you’re able to get.
But when Rodriguez settles into his script, it really loses me, and frankly, loses itself.Mickey Rourke,Johnny Depp,Willem Dafoe(in brownface and an accent; yikes!), andEva Mendesall get caught up in a web of double crosses, spy-like intentions, and plottings involving taking out the President of Mexico. We often tend to lose El Mariachi in these dense movements, and what we’re given instead simply does not work. It causes the film to lurch to a weirdly episodic halt, especially when we watch scene after scene of Depp talking casually to a mark at a restaurant before violently dealing with them (scenes that feel like Rodriguez doing Tarantino fanfic). We do get satisfying, appropriately mythic conclusions for El Mariachi and his crew, but to get there, we have to watch Mendes' character turn for absolutely no reason, and we have to watch Depp’s character — a despicable, talk-a-holic scumbag whom I don’t find redeeming in any way — get a huge, “iconic-feeling” set piece in which he’s blinded and must rely on a child to make his way through a shoot out (cool? Maybe. Absolutely inorganic to the character’s “arc”? Absolutely). This film feels like Rodriguez through and through, and the purity of his vision still makes it an entertaining watch. Just know that its level of entertainment will sputter in fits and starts.
10. Spy Kids: All the Time in the World
How rare is it that thefourthinstallment of a film franchise can work as well and feel as fresh as its first one?Spy Kids: All the Time in the Worldis a fleet and surprisingly deep piece of family entertainment, one that starts with a delightful comedic action set piece —Jessica Albamust finish her spy mission while literally giving birth! — and only heightens from there, with emotional explorations of how we spend our time cleanly serviced by the film’s plot moves and imagery (which have decidedly improved since Rodriguez’s CGI-addled previous entries). Time is running out for everyone: Alba no longer wants to spend her time being a spy after giving birth, her husbandJoel McHalehas trouble making time for his children, his children (her stepchildren)Rowan BlanchardandMason Cookhave trouble making time to connect with their new stepmom, and even a now grownAlexa VegaandDaryl Sabarahave trouble making time reconnecting with each other. As such, Rodriguez throws a dastardly evil invention at all our heroes: Time is literally speeding up for everyone on Earth, thanks to a dastardly evilJeremy Piven(also in a dual role as a noir-infused head of a spy agency; the diametric opposite of “Objectively Good”).
You can probably imagine how all these beats play out. But to see them play out so organically entwined with its emotional center, especially from a filmmaker who’s often unconcerned with his MacGuffins being metaphors for his emotional centers, yielded a rich, satisfying film that every member of a family could enjoy for different reasons. Even our villain’s motivations for messing with time come from a place of emotional desperation, in a revelatory sequence that got me right in the tear ducts. To think that a late-periodSpy Kidssequel could grab me this deeply is something I would’ve never imagined in a million years. But Rodriguez proves here that sometimes all you need is a little time.
