Directed By Gia Coppola

Starring – Pamela Anderson, Brenda Song, Kiernan Shipka

The Plot – a poignant film of resilience, rhinestones and feathers, stars Pamela Anderson as Shelley, a glamorous showgirl who must plan for her future when her show abruptly closes after a 30-year run.

Rated R for adult language and nudity

The Last Showgirl – Official Trailer

POSITIVES

For some deep seeded reason that’s unbeknownst to me, I’ve always had a fond appreciation for the framing devices of aging veterans in an ever-changing industry, and while audiences may expect happy endings for those who have given their lives to the artform that drives them, Coppola’s film proves that the love is rarely returned from a business whose best days are clearly behind it. For her most ambitious step forward as a commanding storyteller, Coppola not only exudes the same kind of unflinching honesty for social commentary that have driven her previous films like ‘Palo Alto’ and ‘Mainstream’, but also perfected this element of atmospheric dread and hopelessness that plagues this dark and seedy underworld of Las Vegas glitz and glamour, whose awakening awareness for politically correct entertainment simultaneously feels like the beginning of one world, while ultimately being the end of the world for these girls involved within an industry that is considered passe. This enacts a tragic element to the exploration that consciously persists without deliberately feeling like a wet blanket to the proceedings, with a surprisingly effective and consistent element of humor that kept the interactions engaging, all the while surmising stakes to the kind of thankless workers that are often ignored or stigmatized in cinema, particularly that of Shelly, who as a 50-something dancer now finds herself forced to start anew without and capabilities to do anything else. Coppola’s firm direction is joined and even enhanced by remarkable production values in both the meaningful cinematography from Autumn Durald, and the audibly entrancing compositions of score from Andrew Wyatt, who each add such a palpable degree of artistic integrity to the film’s minimized budget. Durald’s visuals immediately evoke such a distinctly unique identity that involves handheld cameras and close angles to capture the chaos and claustrophobia of this backstage setting, with a blurred outline in framing that Durald has alluded to defining as “Capturing the characters’ lives in a way that focused on what was in front of them, while subconsciously blurring out everything else. At first, this took some time to get adjusted to, but it eventually feels seamless, as the ghosts from Shelly’s past surmise to distort her character’s priorities, and with gut-wrenching transitions involving photography of Shelly overlooking the luster of the Vegas strip that has since turned its back on her, Durald capably gauges where the audience’s heart should be, with great confidence on the facial registries of her leading lady to simplistically tap into her conscience at all times. As for Wyatt’s string of musical accompaniment, I was deeply impressed not only by the abundance of instruments that he incorporates into such emotionally complex compositions that feel so personal to Shelley’s own plight, but also how each of them evolves structurally into feeling like entirely different numbers than what was initially presented. The themes work terrifically with those aforementioned tight-knit shots where the imagery lingers slightly longer on Shelley’s reactions, in order to conjure an isolation factor for the protagonist that effortlessly attains the kind of empathy needed to buy into her dire situation, and in terms of emotional range and versatility for the ground it covers in a movie that could easily be defined as a dramedy, I found so much personality and punctuality in the timing where it elevates emphasis in the cruel and unforgiving dialogue of its characters, cementing an already favorite score to beat in 2025, which I will definitely be purchasing. Lastly, Anderson gives the single best performance of her entire career, but there’s just as much appreciation in the extensive ensemble that surround her, particularly that of Jamie Lee Curtis, Billie Lourd, and Dave Bautista. Lourd and Bautista radiate such a distinct on-screen presence and atmospheric ambiance whenever either of them are on screen that enhanced the appeal of the scenes they accompanied, but this is another deserving supporting actress nomination for Curtis that nearly stole the movie from Anderson’s clutches. Take everything that Jamie does on TV’s ‘The Bear’, but with only half of the melodramatic elevation in her deliveries, and you have a gripping turn that bounces unapologetically off of each of the characters standing in front of her, with the unblemished charisma that hasn’t aged a day in the fifty plus year legacy of this legend. As for Anderson, the initial bubbly demeanor within her various deliveries during the opening act meticulously gives way to measured dramatic muscle that impacts without raising the decibel levels of her pitch, and between being confronted with the harsh realities of a world that has changed without her, and buried familial links returning to her life to confront her past decisions, Pamela opens herself up to a palpable vulnerability the likes of which we’ve never seen from the actress, and considering so much of the movie revolves around a woman adored for her bodily talents, then thrown out by the industry that she came up in, there’s an essence of authenticity to her approach that feels therapeutic for Anderson’s own regrets about the ways her own popularity skyrocketed, with one particular stage scene during the final ten minutes that feels like art imitating life.

NEGATIVES

When ‘The Last Showgirl’ finished, I was a bit surprised that only 82 minutes had passed, especially since some of the established explorations in arcs feel underdeveloped and surface level at best. Considering I was so thoroughly invested into both this seedy underworld of stage entertainment and Shelley’s character, I found the lack of answers with her backstory to be particularly troubling, where more exposition about what she gave up as a stage performer could’ve possibly elicited a deeper conscience into the tragic element of passed time that has since afforded her lessening opportunities. Shelley isn’t the only one abridged, as an unforeseen development to Bautista’s character and one involving Shelley and her daughter rarely feel like the primary focus in the extent of their respective uses, and while it’s great to have a film that maintains urgency and developments in the depths of its brief run time, the script definitely could’ve used an additional fifteen minutes or pages to further define their appeal to the proceedings, without truly sacrificing the integrity of its pacing. This leads me to the ending, which falls a bit flat and disappointing by the lack of resolution given to the character. While I previously mentioned my appreciation for the film’s unapologetically honest approach towards the world that it was constantly articulating, ambiguity is never the best kind of ways to send an audience home, with one member of my audience audibly calling out “That’s it?” before grabbing her coat to leave. In a lot of ways, this ending reminded me of Darren Arronofsky’s ‘The Wrestler’, where the main protagonist lays it all on the line for one final move that has since been debated by audiences whether or not it killed him, but Coppola’s ending here pales in comparison to that predecessor because the scenes prior to its blow-off don’t proclaim any sense of pride or conformity in the development of its character, which in turn abruptly fades to black, but never at the time that feels most triumphantly impactful. Finally, the one element to Coppola’s direction that I wish she took to heart is a complete lack of choreography or artistry during the showgirl sequences that could’ve elicited an appeal for an industry worth saving, instead of just T&A. In fact, most of Coppola’s depiction of this industry directly contradicts the sentiments of Shelley that this is in fact a show worth saving, mostly because we never interpret just what it is that she sees in the spectacle, and as a result that disconnect keeps us from ever getting close enough to capturing the same kind of evidence for appreciation that she gave her youth for, crafting a missed opportunity for the production that could’ve conjured a sizzle to a presentation that was otherwise standard.

OVERALL
‘The Last Showgirl’ is a dazzling and devastating grind into the grandeur that resurrects Pamela Anderson into the spotlight where she proves with grit and resilience where she rightfully belongs. Despite a lack of pursuit in the established arcs and an ending lacking exclamation, Coppola’s film is still a tender and remorseful portrait of seedy show business, that takes its biggest bows off stage, where the realities of a life wasted, and lights tasted pits one dancer on a collision course with eye-opening destiny.

My Grade: 7.6 or B-