'The Last Showgirl' Review: A Poignant American Portrait of the Overlooked Vegas Working-class
Would you look at that? 2024 has a better Coppola-helmed film this year than Mega-flop-olis in Gia Coppola's (Mainstream, Palo Alto) third feature, The Last Showgirl.
Within the heart of the Las Vegas strip, a showgirl named Shelly (Pamela Anderson) loves nothing more than performing at her casino show, The Razzle Dazzle. She's seen dancers come and go throughout the show's 37-year run but has been there from day one with all these wild stories of yore that she happily shares with her co-workers Jodie (Kiernan Shipka) and Mary-Anne (Brenda Song), whether they want to hear them or not. Eddie (Dave Bautista), their long-time producer, informs them that The Razzle Dazzle will eventually be closed and replaced with a fresh, popular strip-circus show. As her time in the spotlight nears its end, Shelly must deal with her future while still holding on to make every show she performs count.
The Last Showgirl Is A Contemporary American Ghost Story
Gia Coppola raises the curtains on the glitz and glam you see in film and illustrates Vegas for what it's become in recent times: a desolate ghost town. The Last Showgirl, shot on location, spotlights the deteriorating state of Las Vegas, as evidenced by every point-of-view shot depicting characters wandering through the city's streets or traversing through a casino's vacant halls. I dislike long takes of wandering characters looking forlorn and wistful (thank Terrence Malick for that), but Coppola effectively uses it, illuminating the city's former glory. This is the best work Coppola has done to date.
Despite the city seeming so dreary, a vivid picture of Vegas comes alive through Shelly's recollections she shares with her co-workers. You see the impact the city's deteriorating had on her and other showgirl performers trying to make a living and pursue their dreams. This is the most potent aspect of Kate Gersten's screenplay, as she consistently elucidates that being a Vegas showgirl falls within the same tier as any other working-class occupation, like retail.
Yet all the ramifications of the Vegas strip not generating revenue as much as it used to affect their livelihoods, especially the aged showgirls who don't perform anymore. Shelly's brash redhead best friend and former co-worker Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis, who consistently steals the show) is a prime example, as she works as a cocktail waitress in the casino. But because the casino has a low attendance rate, her ageist managers cut her off the floor first. One of the strongest scenes that hammers the ghost town comparison features Annette dancing seductively to Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" on top of a table at work but no one pays her any mind.
Anderson Delivers A Strong Career-Best Performance
Shelly is a character that can only be authentically portrayed by an actress with a distinct path, such as Pamela Anderson's. Similar to Demi Moore in The Substance, The Last Showgirl is another case of casting a ‘90s sex symbol that the system pushed aside acting in a project that calls it out for its ageist norms. Much like Moore, this is a role we have never seen her in before, and she is razzle-dazzling throughout.
The Last Showgirl is Anderson's first dramatic role, and she embodies this character so naturally, that it’s infuriating that it took this long for her to get this star-shining moment. Shelly is like the embodiment of the Bowling For Soup song “1985”: she expresses nostalgia for her longtime showgirl experience, obsessed with her past ventures while refusing to accept the changed times. Her human flaws, blinded ambitions, and determination make you root for her, despite some of her most frustratingly headstrong actions. Anderson expresses herself with a comforting and bubbly voice, mixed with a bit of a diva attitude, all while highlighting how influential Vegas used to be within American culture. And in her expressive style comes clear a Vegas that, despite it all, rested on Shelly's shoulders, encompassing her deep love for her showgirl occupation.
Lost in its Song and Dance
The Last Showgirl is a fascinating slice-of-life American portrait. The story gets lost in its song and dance as Gersten's script aimlessly drifts towards the days of The Razzle Dazzle's final show. The structure is stitched together by a series of vignettes, all involving the people in Shelly's orbit with whom she has rocky and sometimes one-note relationships.
One prominent case is Shelly's estranged college student daughter Hannah (Billie Lourd) who she tries to reconnect with before the show closes. Gersten initially establishes an enticing relationship between Shelly and Hannah. However, its development seems too rushed. One scene follows Shelly and Hannah trying to find each other on common ground, with Hannah walking on eggshells around Shelly's eccentricism. Then, not even ten minutes later, it'd pull a 180, with Hannah lashing out at Shelly, confronting her about the neglect she faced during her childhood.
While the film centers on Shelly, a fascinating character to follow, the film would've benefitted from more time spent on the relationship between her and her co-workers. I found myself more intrigued by the other showgirls Shelly works with, like Kiernan Shipka's Jodie, a 19-year-old on her own, or Brenda Song's Mary-Anne, who has a strong presence and Millennial survival-driven wisdom to her that's sadly underutilized. There was potential to make this intriguing portrait bear clarity, even though all the characters are portrayed thoughtfully, and the supporting cast is stellar.
Final Thoughts
Bolstered by a stunning performance from Pamela Anderson in (hopefully) the first leading role of many, The Last Showgirl, as floaty as its slice-of-life style is, is a harrowing American portrait that highlights the overlooked working-class of Vegas that is forgotten but far from gone.