Very few American playwrights have been adapted to the screen as frequently as Tennessee Williams. However, there needs to be context here. Williams’s work is rooted in repression, longing, and emotionally volatile characters, and while it changed the American stage, it ran headfirst into the Hays Code, which made early adaptations of his works a little tricky.
The best adaptations found ways to work around these restrictions. Some used subtext and silence to preserve what couldn’t be stated explicitly. Others leaned on performance, allowing actors to convey through gesture and tone what the script was forbidden to say outright. A few, made after the Code’s collapse in 1968, had the freedom to engage with Williams’s themes more directly, though that freedom didn’t always guarantee better results.
Below are seven of the strongest Williams adaptations, ranked. Each represents a different balancing game between Williams’s vision and the constraints of its time, showing what survives when his work moves from stage to screen—and what gets lost, reshaped, or surprisingly intensified in translation.
7. The Glass Menagerie (1987)
Paul Newman took a break from acting in a Williams adaptations and decided to direct one in our first entry. His film feels less like a grandiose production and more like an invitation into an intimate space. It wasn’t shackled by the restrictions that earlier adaptations were held to, and it stays faithful to Tennessee Williams’s truth instead of a tongue-in-cheek implication.
Joanne Woodward’s performance as Amanda Wingfield is anxious, overbearing, and entirely human. It captures the quiet aching that sits at the center of Williams’s play.
6. Sweet Bird of Youth (1962)
Sweet Bird of Youth premiered in theaters at a moment when Hollywood was starting to loosen up a bit, but it still hadn’t fully let go yet. Newman stars as Chance Wayne, a man who is clinging to youth but is running out of time and relevance, and is becoming increasingly desperate. Geraldine Page stars alongside him as a fading actress who is self-aware enough to understand what she’s already lost.
The film cannot fully articulate the sexual and moral decay Williams wrote into the play, but the bitterness seeps through anyway, carried by performances that know precisely what cannot be said.
5. Baby Doll (1956)
Even now, Baby Doll feels like it should not exist. Carroll Baker’s performance turns innocence into something unsettling, using posture, voice, and stillness to suggest power dynamics the script could never spell out. The film pushes the boundaries of what the Hays Code would let them get away with, and that’s part of what makes this movie so impactful.
It is the first film to earn a seal of approval from the PCA, while also simultaneously being condemned by the religious Legion of Decency. It is a film that is uncomfortable by design and a reminder that Williams never intended to be polite.
4. The Night of the Iguana (1964)
The Night of the Iguana is what happens when a master storyteller like John Huston crashes directly into the genius of Williams. The result is a film that looks as tattered and run-down as its characters. Richard Burton’s performance as a disgraced minister who can’t run away from his own problems matches the dusty, sweaty setting it takes place in.
The film finds its strength in the quiet bond of shared desperation and exhaustion instead of big confessions and redemption speeches.
3. Suddenly, Last Summer (1959)
This is one of the most daring Tennessee Williams adaptations made under the Hays Code, and its restraint only sharpens its impact. Elizabeth Taylor, Katharine Hepburn, and Montgomery Clift anchor a story built around forbidden knowledge and buried violence. What the film cannot say outright becomes more disturbing through implication, turning repression itself into a source of horror.
It is proof that Williams’s darkness could survive censorship, and sometimes even thrive under it.
2. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)
This adaptation from 1958 isn’t merely a film. It is a clinic on how to make a high-strung domestic drama. Richard Brooks directs Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor in her career-defining performance as Maggie. She radiates desperation against Paul Newman’s detached character, Brick, which is the strength of the film, and is arguably the biggest victim of the Hays Code.
Even though the code strips away the homosexual undertones of Newman’s character that are explicit in the play, the film powers through by examining a claustrophobic portrait of an emotionally complex family in the blistering Southern sun.
1. A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)
What more can be said about A Streetcar Named Desire that hasn’t already been said? It is the definitive Williams adaptation featuring one of the most important performances in the history of film acting.
Marlon Brando’s feral interpretation of Stanley Kowalski remains “ground zero” for the type of acting we see in films today, and even though we can point to his performance as a watershed moment, it still doesn’t take away from Vivien Leigh’s take on Blanche DuBois. We probably remember Brando’s role more vividly, but it was Leigh who took home the Academy Award that year for Best Actress.
A Streetcar Named Desire doesn’t merely survive the censorship of the Hays Code or the adaptation from stage to screen. It reshaped the language of movies.
Tennessee Williams famously wrote characters trapped by themselves. Desire, shame, and societal pressures fueled his character’s motivations, which made them aware of their pitfalls, but rendered them powerless to do anything about them.
They were nuanced, imperfect people, which made them difficult to adapt for the screen when you weigh them against the moral and behavioral standards filmmakers were expected to uphold at the time. It is important that when we compare these films to their source material, we consider this and judge them separately from the plays.
