The Last Showgirl
Do what you feel like doing, embrace yourself. But don't forget to look around once in a while.
Gia Coppola’s The Last Showgirl invites viewers to delve into the underlying realities of Las Vegas, moving beyond its surface allure to address themes of identity, aging, and introspection. The film features Pamela Anderson in a remarkable role as Shelly, a 57-year-old showgirl confronting the unavoidable conclusion of a career that has lasted several decades. Set in the early 2000s, characterized by a nostalgic flip phone aesthetic, the narrative reflects on the lives of entertainers who existed before the era of contemporary mega-residencies exemplified by acts such as Cirque du Soleil and Britney Spears.
The film poignantly illustrates the plight of performers who become so entrenched in their routines that they overlook the passage of time and the changes occurring around them. Coppola presents Shelly’s challenges not merely as a personal dilemma but as a significant reflection on the shared experience of aging, nostalgia, and the search for relevance in a world that prizes the new over the tried and true.
Pamela Anderson is, without a doubt, the soul of this film. I strongly believe she is the only actress in the world who could have played this character the way she did. She doesn’t just portray Shelly—she is Shelly, embodying a woman whose entire life has been hidden behind glitter, feathers, and stage makeup. Watching her navigate Shelly’s emotional unraveling, it’s impossible not to draw parallels to Anderson’s own journey as an actress who has faced years of scrutiny and dismissal. Not going to lie—it’s deeply emotional, and I’m not even part of the generation that grew up with her.
This role feels like the culmination of her career, a triumphant response to all those who doubted her. Shelly is a woman caught between the past and an uncertain future, clinging to memories of applause and euphoria while grappling with the stark reality of fading relevance. Meanwhile, Pamela herself moves forward with grace and strength, proving she’s far more than the world ever gave her credit for.
The supporting cast is relatively small but effective. Everyone delivers solid performances, and it’s delightful to see familiar faces like Brenda Song and Kiernan Shipka (so glad you’ve moved on from Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa and his... whatever that was). That said, we somehow also have Jamie Lee Curtis essentially reprising her role as Donna Berzatto from The Bear. Okay? I guess.
However, The Last Showgirl is far from flawless. Gia Coppola’s direction aims to emulate the authenticity of a Sean Baker film, but it’s definitely not there yet. While Baker’s films thrive on deep, lived-in portrayals of real-world characters, Coppola’s vision feels distant and incomplete. The script lacks cohesion, often presenting threads of Shelly’s story that remain underdeveloped or unresolved. At just over an hour long, the movie feels like it’s missing key chunks of narrative that could have provided much-needed depth and context.
Visually, the film embraces the aesthetic of a low-budget indie drama from the early 2000s. While this adds a certain charm, it also highlights the film’s limitations. Some scenes suffer from poor lighting or appear rushed, suggesting a lack of resources or time for reshoots. It’s not tragic (the film does have a charming, vibey look), but there are moments where the frames are out of focus, and you can’t help but feel that it wasn’t intentional.
Despite its flaws, The Last Showgirl is a poignant exploration of a woman navigating the complexities of aging, femininity, and self-worth. Comparisons can be drawn to Coralie Fargeat’s 2024 hit The Substance, which also delves into themes of women confronting their age and beauty. However, where The Substance offers a bolder, more experimental take, The Last Showgirl opts for a subtler, more grounded approach.
The film’s standout achievement is Anderson’s performance, which transforms The Last Showgirl from a flawed narrative into an emotionally resonant experience. It’s a film that lingers, reminding viewers of the universal desire to be seen, valued, and remembered. As imperfect as it may be, The Last Showgirl is undeniably compelling and deserves to be watched, if only to witness Anderson’s triumphant return to the spotlight. And, as Miley Cyrus beautifully puts it in the film's main soundtrack, it is Beautiful That Way.
6.5/10
Thanks to Roadside Attractions for the screener. Check your theaters for the premiere now or in the spring!