5 Best Wayans Family Movies, Ranked

For close to 40 years, the Wayans family has been a dominant force in film and television comedy. Their astounding run technically began in 1987 when Keenan Ivory Wayans co-wrote the razor-sharp industry satire "Hollywood Shuffle" with writer/director Robert Townsend, but it truly kicked off a year later when Keenan wrote and directed the uproarious Blaxploitation spoof "I'm Gonna Git You Sucka." Over the next few years, other members of the family began showing up in supporting and starring roles. Their films were generally modestly successful until Keenan teamed with younger brothers Marlon and Shawn to make the horror movie parody "Scary Movie." When that film grossed $278 million at the box office against a $19 million budget, the Wayans went from niche successes to blockbuster merchants. To date, their movies have made in the neighborhood of $2 billion globally, and that number is certain to grow with the release of the 2026 "Scary Movie."

Clearly, loads of people love the Wayans' comedic sensibilities, but there are drawbacks to their mirth-making. Starting with their groundbreaking sketch comedy series, "In Living Color," they've had a penchant for punching down. Damon's Handi-Man, a superhero with cerebral palsy, made fun of the disability, while "Men on Film," which found David Alan Grier and Damon playing two gay movie critics, went heavy on queer stereotypes. As a result, a lot of their comedies are ragingly problematic.

I could make the case that they push so far with some of these jokes that they finally become too silly to give offense, but I'm speaking from a straight white male perspective. I honestly can't think of a single time a joke about my demographic upset me. So, keep this in mind as I rank the Wayans' best movies, some of which I find very funny.

"White Chicks," a comedy about two FBI agent brothers (Shawn and Marlon Wayans) who are forced to go deep, deep undercover as a pair of young white women, has acquired a loyal following over the years. I do not worship at this specific cinematic church, but I must concede that there is one brilliant set piece that shows off the physical comedy genius of Terry Crews. There's just one problem: It's a roofie gag, and "White Chicks" nearly took this scene even further than it goes in the finished movie.

Nevertheless, the joke is primarily aimed at Crews. The "Expendables" and "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" veteran plays an NBA star under the influence at a club. He's hot for Marlon's character in his white woman disguise, so he takes to the dance floor, bare-chested, and goes positively wild, waving glowsticks, blowing a whistle, and doing the robot. It's the kind of bring-the-house-down gag that keeps people laughing for minutes afterward. And that's about it for this movie's laughs.

The film does have a surprisingly sweet ending, which makes up for the shoddiness of all that's come before. But aside from Crews' livewire moment, my fondest memory of "White Chicks" is when Chris Rock, while hosting the Oscars in 2004, went to a Magic Johnson theater to poll moviegoers on their favorite films of the year. Most of these folks had not seen Best Picture nominees like "Finding Neverland," "Million Dollar Baby" or "Sideways," but they did enjoy "White Chicks!" The bit peaks when Albert Brooks shows up to proclaim "White Chicks" the best movie of the year. "They got robbed!"

The Wayans brand is all about raucous, line-crossing comedy, but it'd be nice to see them make a more sweet-natured movie again like Damon Wayans' heartfelt superhero comedy "Blankman." Alas, the overwhelmingly negative reviews and the fact that "Blankman" grossed a paltry $7.9 million at the box office against a $30 million budget means this probably ain't happening soon.

The film feels like an apology of sorts for Handi-Man. Damon's protagonist, Darryl Walker, is a naive, socially awkward nerd who still lives at home with his grandmother (Lynne Thigpen) and brother Kevin (David Alan Grier). Darryl has never really grown up. He still loves the ABC "Batman" TV series and spends most of his time inventing things out of junk (like his rickety robot assistant J-5). But when his grandmother is murdered by a mob hitman at the campaign headquarters of a politician she supports, Darryl decides to become the titular crimefighter.

Like Robert Townsend's "Meteor Man," "Blankman" is a mostly earnest attempt to make a four-quadrant superhero film with a Black lead. Its biggest strength is Wayans' affecting portrayal of Darryl, whose innocent view of the world is shaken by the unthinkable slaying of his grandmother. And while he isn't lacking for confidence, he overestimates his ability to mix it up with the bad guys, so it's touching when Kevin joins him as The Other Guy (much to Kevin's chagrin). The film is partially undone by Mike Binder's cloddish direction, but it's got its moments (with J-5's inability to navigate stairs being a particularly good gag).

I went to a test screening of the first "Scary Movie" in New York City, and I probably only heard half of the dialogue over the roaring laughter of the recruited teenage audience. I didn't laugh much, but I was awed by the reaction. The Wayans clearly had a franchise-launching blockbuster on their hands. My only question: Could they avoid the curse of diminishing returns that typically afflicts spoof movie properties?

Critically and commercially, "Scary Movie 2" was a stumble. The mixed reviews of "Scary Movie" turned into almost universal pans, while the box office dropped to $141 million (and the budget skyrocketed from $19 million to $45 million). And that's too bad because it's a far funnier (and weirder) movie than the original.

"Scary Movie 2" benefits from being less Wayans-centric and, most importantly, pivoting from slasher parody to supernatural spoof. Its central point of reference is Richard Matheson's novel "Hell House," which is only the greatest haunted house novel ever written. Given the book's cultural influence, this allows the Wayans to riff on classics like "The Haunting," "Poltergeist," "The Changeling," and "House on Haunted Hill." And the Wayans came loaded for bear in the supporting actor department by casting Tim Curry, David Cross, James Woods, and Chris Elliott (as a caretaker with an, er, unusual hand). The highs are much higher here, and the film's willingness to parody movies and books that existed before 1970 is commendable.

"One out of every 10 Black males will be forced to sit through at least one 'Growing Up in the Hood' movie in their lifetime. At least one out of five will be shot in the theater while watching the movie." So begins "Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood," the anarchic parody of 1990s inner-city dramas that vaulted Shawn and Marlon Wayans into the spotlight. It's easily the most visually inventive spoof in the Wayans' oeuvre (thanks to the direction of Primetime Emmy Award winner Paris Barclay) and probably the meanest. And from the moment Shawn is left to live with his father, who is only a couple of years older than him, it is so very hard to stop laughing.

"Don't Be a Menace..." is a riot. Loc Dog (Marlon) living in a house that is swimming in malt liquor, replete with a St. Ides water cooler, is a great riff on hip-hop culture's absurd embrace of the low-grade alcohol. Loc Dog's grandmother rolling in a six-four, Bernie Mac playing a self-hating Black cop who hates his people so much he holds a grudge against the back of Forest Whitaker's neck, Darrell Health as a gang member so used to prison that he still bets on dominos with cartons of cigarettes ... there's a case to be made that this is legitimate social satire. It just wields sharp elbows and hits targets that needn't be hit (namely, disabled people and the LGBTQ+ community). But this is land-mine comedy, and there is a place for that.

Hip-hop was a crossover phenomenon in 1988, which should've turned Keenan Ivory Wayans' Blaxploitation satire "I'm Gonna Git You Sucka" into a box office sleeper. (It had a bangin' Boogie Down Productions theme song.) Instead, MGM/UA slow-rolled the film's theatrical release, and most people discovered the comedy classic on home video. The tale of military lightweight Jack Spade (Keenan), who returns home to Any Ghetto U.S.A. to avenge the OG (Over-Gold) death of his brother Junebug, combined the conspiratorial thinking of genre flicks like "Three the Hard Way" with the hardcore toughness of "Shaft." But you didn't have to know about any of this stuff to be entertained by Chris Rock nickel-and-diming a rib establishment to the point where he wants a cup of soda poured into his hands.

Keenan Ivory Wayans understood the cadence and absurdity of Blaxploitation films. But, unlike the Zucker/Abrahams/Zucker approach to parodying disaster movies (namely, in "Airplane!"), he truly loved the target of his spoofery. He brought in genre legends Jim Brown, Bernie Casey, and Isaac Hayes to serve as backup to the overmatched Spade and even subverted the sexual prowess of his protagonist by having him boast that he possesses a foot-long penis, only to find that his lie can be quadrupled by his libidinal conquest. It's a savvy parody that never punches down. And we get Antonio Fargas strutting down the sidewalk in a pair of platform shoes with goldfish tanks. It's a great movie, and Keenan has been chasing it since I was in high school. You can do better, Keenan. You can do so much better.