The Last Showgirl

I was looking forward to this, hearing much about Pamela Anderson finding her form in the film. It is true that this is by far the best I have ever seen her, let's not get over excited as she is no Meryl Streep as yet, but she was great to watch. Fortunately or unfortunately, Jamie Lee Curtis polls up to steal the show on the acting front with a superb character piece. Props also to Dave Bautista (who knew), who also showed he can act with a great portrayal of the gentle giant, who when it comes to the old time show girl and the meaning there-in "gets it". It's a simple story of age and decay of an aging ex beautiful young showgirl, still treading the boards, and also reflects parts of Vegas in a similar light, with its own age and decay. Friends holding close within this melancholic tale of broken individuals. The film helps us see, and maybe reflect on our own ticking clock. Very worthy watch 7/10.

Jamie Lee Curtis nailed it in one of her interviews. This is a movie about the degradation of women at the end of their lives. The use of the glamour of Las Vegas showgirls to show the slow decline with an eventual fall off a cliff edge - poverty, homelessness - when they are no longer young and sexy. Eddie gives us a view of how older women *are* sexy, but only when they are not being objectified.

The audience laughed quite often in poignant moments, and I suspect it was to cover their discomfort with the journey of the two older women.

The photography was often very close, and it created an intimacy, also showing the flaws of aging bodies that were at odds with the on-stage showgirls.

Some reviewers said the characters were superficial, but I think perhaps that's a lack of personal experience with the issues these women were facing. I enjoyed this movie. It's not tragic, but it is gently heartbreaking at times.

When you think of Las Vegas, an odd assortment of images comes to mind, generally harkening back to another time: classy casinos draped in neon cutting into the night sky, Elvis Presley resplendent and sweaty in a rhinestone jumpsuit, Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra smoking and joking on stage. At the heart of all that spectacle, strutting through the haze of old-school glamour, is the showgirl, the stunning, dancing fixture of Vegas that seems to have been around for as long as time itself.

It may be surprising, but the showgirl has actually all but vanished. 'Jubilee!', the last grand revue, closed in 2016 after 35 years at Bally's. Cultural shifts, changing tastes and finances all played a role- audiences now favour superstars like Adele and Garth Brooks over sequined spectacle. When casinos stopped subsidizing productions in the 1980's, producers ditched the risk, paving the way for residencies, Broadway imports and the odd allure of Cirque du Soleil. While showgirls haven't disappeared entirely, the era of grand, glitzy revues has faded, leaving only traces of its former glory.

With the showgirl now a relic of Vegas's past, Gia Coppola's 'The Last Showgirl' steps in to explore what's left of that glittering legacy. Inspired by the closure of 'Jubilee!', the film follows Shelly, a veteran performer in Le Razzle Dazzle, a classic French-style revue. After three decades on stage, her world is upended when the show's closure is announced. Unsure of what comes next, Shelly must navigate an uncertain future while confronting what it truly means to leave the spotlight behind.

It is a touching drama, resonating on multiple levels. Kate Gersten's screenplay deftly examines the waning days of the showgirl era, serving as both a love letter to classic Vegas and a poignant meditation on aging in showbusiness. Much like Coralie Fargeat's 'The Substance'- though far less grotesque- it explores the physical and emotional toll of an industry built on youth and beauty.

At its core, it is a character study, anchored by Shelly's journey from center stage to a foot-note in the wings. Coppola lingers on the quiet moments- empty dressing rooms, fading lights, the weight of sequins that once felt like armour- painting a deeply human portrait. Through Shelly, the film contemplates the inevitable question for any performer whose identity is tied to the stage: when the curtain falls, who are you without the spotlight?

Beyond Shelly's personal reckoning, the film also explores the toll of her choices on those around her, particularly her strained relationship with her daughter. The screenplay excels in these interactions, with sharp, lived-in dialogue that adds depth to both Shelly and the richly drawn supporting cast.

In this way, the film shares DNA with Darren Aronofsky's 'The Wrestler', Bob Fosse's 'All That Jazz', and again, in a less grisly sense, 'The Substance'. It also has striking real-world parallels to the life of star Pamela Anderson, who, like Shelly, once embodied an era's idea of beauty and spectacle, then to see her status dwindle. Anderson's recent return to Broadway in 'Chicago' was a reclamation of her own narrative- proof that reinvention is possible, but never easy.

These intimate character moments are further elevated by the striking cinematography from director of photography Autumn Durald Arkapaw, as well as Natalie Ziering's lush production design. The neon glow of old Vegas flickers like a fading memory, captured in warm, nostalgic hues that contrast with the stark, impersonal corporate sheen of the city's modernity.

Moreover, Jacqueline Getty and Rainy Jacobs's costumes- especially Shelly's extravagant stage attire- serve as both a reminder of past glory and a symbol of the identity she struggles to hold onto. Complementing it all is Andrew Wyatt's evocative score, full of dreamy, melancholic undertones, mirroring Shelly's own emotional highs and lows. Together, these elements don't just recreate the lost world of the Vegas showgirl- they immerse one in it, making the film not just a story of one woman, but an elegy for an entire era.

Yet, without a strong lead, the film could have easily faltered. Pamela Anderson delivers a career-best performance as Shelly, capturing her fragility beneath layers of feathers and rhinestones. As Shelly- a woman who spent decades in the spotlight, now struggling to find her place in the shadows- Anderson is quietly devastating. While her own public persona adds an intriguing meta-layer to the role, it's her vulnerability, grace and effortless authenticity that make Shelly feel so achingly real.

Furthermore, Jamie Lee Curtis does typically fine work as Shelly's friend Anette, a feisty cocktail waitress whose best years are behind her. Brenda Song and Kiernan Shipka bring nuance and depth to their roles as younger showgirls at different crossroads, while Billie Lourd is equally impressive as Shelly's estranged daughter Hannah. Additionally, Dave Bautista brilliantly underplays the role of Shelly's producer Eddie, and Jason Schwartzman makes a delightfully insidious cameo as a seedy casting director.

Much like the fading neon of old Vegas, 'The Last Showgirl' glows with a bittersweet beauty, paying tribute to an era that refuses to be forgotten. With a spectacular Pamela Anderson at its heart, Gia Coppola's film is both elegiac and deeply human, capturing the quiet heartbreak of life beneath the greasepaint. Showgirls may no longer rule the Strip, but if Shelly- and Anderson's luminous performance- prove anything, it's that true stars never really fade. They just find a new way to shine.

THE LAST SHOWGIRL would probably make a great double bill with DEATH OF A SALESMAN, in that they both explore the consequences of having superficial values. Pamela Anderson stars as Shelley, a veteran Las Vegas performer in a "boobs-and-feathers show." She's been a showgirl in a revue called "Razzle Dazzle" for 30 years, but "Razzle Dazzle" is now dated and no longer sells tickets. What's she going to do now that the show is closing? She's a mediocre dancer and her youth is gone. She has no practical skills to make a living. All she has lived for is the "glamour of show business." Her "marriage" was a failure, she was a terrible mother, her friendships were superficial. There is not much plot, but it's a brilliant character study. Despite the lack of a real plot, director Gia Coppola has given it a level of intensity that kept me rapt with attention for the film's 90-minute length. In the role of a selfish woman with trashy values, Ms. Anderson is quite believable, as are the dazzling supporting cast, which includes Kiernan Shipka (as a child actress, she played Don Draper's daughter on MAD MEN) and Brenda Song as young showgirl co-workers, Dave Bautista as the show's stage manager (and a previous lover), Billie Lourd, as her recently estranged daughter, and especially Jamie Lee Curtis as a former showgirl who is now a beat-up-looking cocktail waitress. This, to me is the best ensemble cast of a movie of the entire year. Kudos to all! Cinematography, music, and art direction are excellent. This film is certainly worth seeing because it raises a lot of questions about American values. I'd recommend it.

Great movie but the camera movement gets a little annoying! The cast did an amazing job, I think they were the perfect cast! The only thing about the film was the constant movements and some of the glow and blur and too much unnecessary lights blinding the camera it was nice in some parts but they overdid it and it honestly ruined a really good movie! Which is Such a disappointment! I don't know if it was the director or camera guy who wanted to film it like that but that definitely ruined the film! There are some parts that were soft and nostalgic which I did really enjoy with some of the blur, the lights and the glow but it got annoying with the constant movements.