The Last Showgirl opens with Pamela Anderson's Shelly Gardner standing awkward and alone on stage, lying about her age as she attempts a dance audition for the first time in decades. We then cut to the hustle and bustle of the dressing room of "The Razzle Dazzle", the Vegas show Shelly has been a part of for thirty years. Full of warmth and camaraderie, the life she is used to presents a stark contrast to the future she is facing. Outdated and playing to empty seats, the Razzle Dazzle is set to close in two weeks, prompting Shelly to contemplate life without the thing she has based her entire existence around.
This is an understated and sombre character study, presenting a far less glamorous view of Sin City than we are used to seeing. The glory days of the Vegas showgirl have long passed and despite her being one of the scenes biggest stars, have left Shelly with precious little to show for her life beyond glorious memories. Here home is modest to say the least and estranged daughter, played by Billie Lourd, is aghast when she finally sees how unremarkable the show her mother prioritised now is. Still, she is in a better place than friend and mentor Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis), a cocktail waitress with a gambling problem who is destined to work til she drops. All things may come to an end but director Gia Coppola is keen to impress the fact it is always the women who end up being deemed the most disposable. Shelly rages that despite being the face of the show for decades she is to be thrown on the scrapheap while stage manager Eddie (a soulful Dave Bautista) simply moves on to the show that is taking their place. Aside from a blunt casting director, Eddie is the only male presence in the film. A decent and respectful guy, he still feels the need to weigh in on Shelly's parenting mistakes.
Given her situation it would be easy for Shelly to simply be a vessel for pity, but while you can't help sympathise, she is three dimensional and deeply flawed. She seeks to build bridges with her daughter but seems incapable of giving a sincere apology for being an absentee mother. She is condescending and dismissive towards newer versions of exotic dancing, demanding respect for her art form while giving precious little to others. She callously rejects a plea for help from a young dancer who idoliser her. This texture is what makes the film work, drawing the viewer in to character that could have been a saccharine passenger. Anderson gives a fantastic central performance. Like a captive tiger she is dignified and lost in equal measure and imbues every minute facial movement with energy and meaning. A lot has been made of the role somehow mirroring her real life story but that feels reductive. Sure, few actresses have been dismissed and misunderstood as much as Anderson has but Shelly is the product of a studied and measured performance, not stunt casting.
The Last Showgirl heads straight for melancholy and remains parked there for the duration. In that sense, it is pretty one note but there is enough nuance in the lead performance and compassion in the film making to make it a show worth getting a ticket for.
7 unbroken wings out of 10.
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