Pamela Anderson's 10 Best Movies And TV Shows, Ranked

Earliy in 2025, Pamela Anderson surprised many observers by giving a performance in "The Last Showgirl" that saw her nominated for a Golden Globe and a Screen Actors Guild Award for Best Actress. Most famous for being a former Playboy Playmate and the object of everyone's affection on "Baywatch," anderson had spent years portrayed in the media as little more than a sex symbol and a serial spouse, attracted to self-styled bad boys like Mötley Crüe drummer Tommy Lee and rap-rocker Kid Rock until the honeymoon period inevitably wore off. 

However, part of her lasting appeal was that she wasn't just a sex symbol that turned everyone's heads. Unlike many an aspiring actress with a similar look, her career and image never felt calculated. The woman from an island in British Columbia, Canada, was admired for her looks, but she never changed her fundamentally truthful personality. She never minded owning her sexuality, nor using it to promote causes she believed in. On the downside, leaning into the bombshell image made it harder for her to ever play anything but that — or some kind of parody of it.

Now romantically linked to Liam Neeson after costarring with him in "The Naked Gun," the 58-year-old Anderson is starting to get roles that rely on more than just her beauty. Holding her own in many ways opposite one of Northern Ireland's finest, her career has plenty of commendable roles that are worth looking back at to figure out what's worth watching or re-watching. 

Here are Pamela Anderson's best movies and TV shows, ranked.

Following "Baywatch," Anderson appeared in a number of movies, mostly comedies, playing a version of herself, either literally or figuratively (pun intended). "Superhero Movie," "Scary Movie 3," and "Pauly Shore Is Dead" are among those, but probably the best was "Scooby-Doo," written by current DC Studios head honcho James Gunn. 

As an initial client of Mystery, Inc., Anderson hires the original Scooby gang to get to the bottom of a haunted toy factory, where her ability to manufacture eco-friendly action figures was being hindered by an apparent ghost. Naturally, it turned out to be a disgruntled janitor, who would have gotten away with it if not for those meddling kids. The case, however, proves to be a catalyst in Mystery, Inc.'s dysfunction, when Fred (Freddie Prinze Jr.) hogs the credit — and Ms. Anderson's grateful affection.

As with all of her cameos, Anderson was game for anything, frequently making herself and her body the joke, so long as it meant plugging environmental causes she cared about. For once, in this case, her scene wasn't the only worthwhile moment onscreen, to the point that we tend to remember more about the movie than just her cameo. Though it wasn't embraced by critics at the time, Gunn's script threaded a delicate needle between appealing to young adults who had grown up with the cartoons, and the kids Warner Bros. was trying to appeal to. Anderson's appearance — driving the Mystery Machine! — was a throwback to the cartoon's sometimes random celebrity cameos.

Quick, without looking it up, do you know which "Star Wars" saga MVP played Pamela Anderson's love interest in "Barb Wire" back in 1996? He's not typically known for being a leading man, but it was, in fact, Temuera Morrison playing gender-flipped Bergman to Anderson's Bogart in this bizarre — and totally '90s — post-apocalyptic ripoff of "Casablanca." While decidedly not one of the rare ripoff movies that are better than the original, "Barb Wire" has its charms, chief among them that it was the first feature to star Pamela Anderson in the lead. So committed was she to the role, loosely based on a Dark Horse comic, that she got the character's signature tattoo inked for real rather than having to undergo makeup for it every day.

If you came to "Barb Wire" looking for the nudity, the unrated version is what you want, but there's more to this movie than sex appeal. The plot involves a new American Civil War in the year 2017 (they may not have been too far off!), hi-tech contact lenses, Udo Kier as Barb's assistant, and Steve Railsback as the main villain who makes the mistake of calling the titular character "Babe," after she's told everyone in the movie not to. It's quality schlock that flopped at the box office, and it's especially impressive knowing Anderson was hospitalized mid-production, as discussed in the documentary "Pamela: A Love Story."

Stan Lee may or may not have liberally borrowed the concept for this animated series from a stripper giving him a lapdance at the time, but it scarcely matters — the series basically answers the question, "What if Pamela Anderson were a stripper and a superhero?" Without her, it wouldn't work at all. Any skilled female voice actor might have had a take on such a character, but maybe only Anderson could embody a character so literally drawn to look like her and maintain her natural openness, playing the character not as stupid but simply oblivious to the degree of lechery around her.

Full of double entendres and sexy spoofery, "Stripperella" plays similarly to many edgy '90s comic-book parody cartoons like "Freakazoid" and "Duckman," but it came out just a little too late, in 2003, and featured cartoon toplessness (blurred in the U.S. but seen most everywhere else) that limited the available audience. Though its humor holds up surprisingly well, some of the guest stars don't. T the show was made for Spike TV, the pointedly male-skewing network and features vocal performances from the now-problematic likes of WWE founder Vince McMahon and Anderson's then-beau Kid Rock. On the plus side, Maurice LaMarche does his best Jon Lovitz voice as recurring villain Cheapo, who likes to steal small amounts of money that go a long way for a penny pincher like himself.

From "Pretty Woman" and "Under Siege" writer J.F. Lawton (who also directed the sadly underseen "Jackson," starring the late "Night Court" costar Charlie Robinson) came "V.I.P." A post-"Baywatch" syndicated series with Anderson in the lead, this action-comedy features her as Vallery Irons, a figurehead for a bodyguard agency to which she lends her name (V.I.P. stands for Vallery Irons Protection). In actuality, though, she's hired only because she saved a celebrity by accident, and her appearances as the face of the agency are meant to cover for the real professionals doing the tough work. Naturally, the inexperienced Vallery would often luck into solving weekly cases before her more veteran coworkers could.

Lawton's Hollywood connections allowed the show to score many celebrity cameos, like Jay Leno, Steve Austin, Jerry Springer, and in a particularly inspired bit of casting, Loni Anderson as Vallery's mother. Full of in-jokes as well as enough action for overseas buyers, the show lasted four seasons and even spawned its own video game. It also served as the beginning of a pivot by the younger Anderson towards more self-referential comedy, which would serve her well in subsequent years.

Following a few one-off guest spots on TV shows after she moved to Los Angeles, Anderson scored her first recurring role as Lisa, the "Tool Time" girl on "Home Improvement." Though her role was essentially as a spokesmodel on one of the best fictional TV shows-within-a-show, she also had to look believable concerned every time Tim Allen's arrogant, hapless Tim "The Toolman" Taylor screwed up and injured himself as a result of never reading instructions, demanding more power than was advisable, or otherwise ignored the sensible safety tips of smarter sidekick Al Borland (Richard Karn). 

Anderson also got good at enthusiastically yelling "Does everybody know what time it is?" and subsequently introducing the hosts. During her stint on "Home Improvement," she also got to appear on "Home Again," starring Bob Vila, who was the original inspiration for Tim Taylor.

Anderson was replaced by Debbe Dunning after she moved on to "Baywatch" — a smart career movie, in the end. However, she did return for a guest spot four years later, at the height of her fame as a fictional lifeguard.

If NBC's cancellation of "Baywatch" after one season had been the end of it, Pamela Anderson's name might not be anywhere near as well-known as it is today. Fortunately for fans of campy, beach-based drama, star David Hasselhoff wouldn't give up on the hourlong lifeguard show, understanding the international sales potential of women running in slow-motion in skintight bathing suits. His own music career was also a factor — though the former "Knight Rider" star's vocals were often ridiculed in the U.S., he became a successful singer in Europe, and had the show play his tunes over the end credits.

Anderson's C.J. Parker was a mildly fictionalized version of her: a bombshell who cared about animals and New Agey beliefs but could also save lives with the best of them. It's a stretch to say many viewers tuned in to appreciate the acting. If anything, many viewers who came of age in the ironic '90s tuned in either to laugh at Hasselhoff's impossibly earnest retro heroics or catch a glimpse of Anderson, Erika Eleniak, Yasmine Bleeth, Gena Lee Nolin, and Carmen Electra in their red "uniforms." Both of those traits transcend language, of course, and helped to make "Baywatch" one of the most popular TV shows in the world. Anderson became a pop culture icon and international sex symbol far above and beyond her Playboy career as a result, but it's fair to say the subsequent acting offers stayed very much in the same lane.

"Ask Dr. Ruth" director Ryan White's 2023 documentary effectively served as a career reboot for Anderson, summarizing and somewhat closing the book on the part that was all about objectification and laying the groundwork for the modern, minimal-makeup Pam who now actually gets cast for her acting ability. She has always been a good sport about her career as a sex symbol, and she evidently enjoyed it more than someone like Jayne Mansfield who felt trapped by it, but it's clear some of it was hurtful too.

In the immediate post Howard Stern era, radio and TV hosts felt entirely comfortable asking someone like her the kinds of questions that horny guys were actually thinking, without regard to manners or common courtesy. Even now, in a supposedly more "woke" era, the theft of her personal honeymoon tapes can be the central humorous premise in a comedy bio-series, despite the fact that she never authorized any depiction of herself or the crime against her. All of this, perhaps, because we thought that as she had been a Playmate, we were entitled to see her doing intimate things, regardless of consent.

The documentary may be as much image control as anything else — it pushes the notion that she's a good mother (if a less-good, serial wife) and isn't one to hold lengthy grudges. Mostly, though, it depicts a fundamentally open and honest person, sometimes to a fault. That's how a true actor should be.

Upon a first watch of "Borat," it's not necessarily clear whether or not Anderson is in on one of the movie's climactic jokes. So many other people in the movie had no idea what they were getting into, thanks to elaborately worded contracts and comedian Sacha Baron Cohen committing to his eponymous character, a faux-Kazakh journalist who's both naive and anti-Semitic. Most of the movie's humor comes from the reactions of people who think the Borat character is for real, and when he tries to kidnap Anderson to make her his wife, she looks convincingly creeped out and panicked.

In reality, Anderson was familiar with Cohen and worked with him and director Larry Charles. Borat becomes obsessed with Anderson after seeing her on "Baywatch," and he even fights his colleague Azamat (Ken Davitian) when he catches him self-pleasuring to one of her pictures. Not every actress would go for that, but Anderson said she found the attention flattering. Though the movie mostly repurposes footage and images of her, it plays on the premise that she's an international icon, and her appearance at the climax of the film is note perfect. Not everyone agreed that her appearance was a good one, though — her then-husband, Kid Rock, apparently flew into a rage over it.

Like Priscilla Presley nearly four decades ago in the first "Naked Gun," Anderson in the new remake/legacyquel gets to age gracefully as a still-glamorous older woman, more modestly dressed but just as much of a dangerous beauty. Her character of Beth Davenport, an author of true crime novels based on stories she made up, is an extremely loose riff on Sharon Stone in "Basic Instinct," and while she's still 15 years younger than onscreen love interest Liam Neeson, their pairing makes a refreshing change from Hollywood's youth obsession.

Anderson's no stranger to sending up her image, but now that she's aged up past stereotypical blonde jokes, she demonstrates that far from being the one-note butt of a joke (pun intended), she has a whole orchestra of comedic instincts at her disposal. Whether trying to improvise a jazz scat that goes all over the place, severing the head of a demon-possessed snowman, or making accidentally seductive poses that are easily misread from a distance, she proves herself much more than just a still-pretty face.

Eighty year-old Presley doesn't look bad herself in a brief cameo. No doubt Anderson, or anyone else, would love that sort of career longevity. If she puts out more game-for-any-laugh, deadpan performances like this one, she'll be well on her way to securing it.

Virtually every actor with any sort of career longevity inevitably makes an awards-push movie in which they play a variation of themselves, looking back on life with some regret and tying up at least one loose end. They don't always connect, such as Anderson's "Barb Wire" costar Udo Kier in 2021's "Swan Song," which sadly didn't get the attention it deserved. Anderson, however, got the best notices of her career as an aging Las Vegas showgirl whose long-running burlesque show is about to be canceled. Fearing for her future, she also has to contend with the biological daughter who resents her and her career, and the younger showgirls who look up to her though she no longer has much advice for them.

Directed by Gia Coppola (granddaughter of Francis) and written by Kate Gersten, the movie hits on two levels. In a world where long-term careers are hard to come by and money is tight, it resonates with anyone prematurely dealing with job obsolescence. Yet it also resonates with Anderson's career specifically, now that it's become much more difficult to use her body to move merchandise and sell tickets, thanks to Hollywood's shallow standards. Now forgoing stylized makeup, and baring her emotions in a serious role, Anderson finally stars in a movie designed to engage the head and heart, rather than the libido or the easy laugh. It's definitely a hit on Hulu, and it's absolutely worth watching.