This is probably the best acting in the career of Pamela Anderson. Wow, that’s damning with faint praise, huh? It’s like being the best speed-skater in Botswana. I hope this role leads to bigger and better things for her; you know, things people might actually want to watch. Ms. Anderson has been a pair of breasts in a tight shirt for so long one forgets she might actually be more than a horny punchline for Borat.
You’ve schooled us all, Pam. Congrats. Now go figure out how to replace Jennifer Coolidge on “White Lotus.”
I really don’t mean to discourage Pamela Anderson’s career here; Ms. Anderson -if I might speak to you directly- you’ve a balloon animal on screen for decades, hence I don’t want to take anything away from you now that you seem to have found a different kind of talent. That said, The Last Showgirl is a titillating nudie film without either. This is a depressing look at what happens when one ages out of sex work and has nothing to show for it.
Do I feel for you? You bet.
Does that make this film good? Not in the least.
“Le Razzle Dazzle,” a constant Vegas stage parade of nearly costumed women, is ending. The performers kid themselves that their show has deep cultural origins and French roots in classic entertainment. Bullshit. You’re selling sex. There’s nothing wrong with that, especially in Las Vegas, but it’s important you know because sex -generally- [GENRALLY, NOT SPECIFICALLY] is one of those things that becomes harder and harder to sell the older you get. And our characters are just figuring that out now.
And the thing is –if it’s hard for twentysomethings Jodie (Kiernan Shipka) and Mary-Anne (Brenda Song), imagine how much harder that sale is going to be for 57 year-old Shelly (Anderson). Actually, I have no idea how old Shelly is supposed to be in the film. I’m just going by the age of Anderson. During the film, Shelley auditions claiming at first to be 36, and then conceding 42, although we know both numbers are heavy fabrications.
Early on, Eddie (Dave Bautista), the show’s producer, announces Le Razzle Dazzle is discontinuing after years of production. It feels a little like what happened to the airline industry when flight attendants went from young-n-bubbly in the 1970s to, well, not-so-much by the 90s.
Except people need flight attendants. Nobody actually needs showgirls. And discovering this is a swift kick in the hoo-hah for our entire family of saleswomen. We already have the evidence of where such a path ventures: Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis) is a former showgirl who aged out years ago. Now she peddles drinks to slot
jockeys while wearing a “sexy bellboy” costume that wouldn’t look good on a supermodel. Annette doesn’t get many tips or shifts any longer. Combined with her own gambling addiction problem, she now lives in her car. This is what awaits Shelly, Jodie, and Mary-Anne … but Shelly first, clearly.
Meanwhile, Shelly suddenly remembers she has a real daughter (Billie Lourd). And maybe this would be a good time to connect.
The Last Showgirl feels cringe from beginning to end. I understand this is art, not sex, but it is art under the guise of failed sex, which somehow makes it all the sadder. And this is all these women know; they don’t even have a bad set of useful job skills to rely on. Hence, there are no solutions here, just despair … and despair among a group who never quite figured out “you’re going to need more than this.” I found the whole thing sad, depressing, and not the least bit sexy, which -in retrospect- might be the worst crime of all, because if Pamela Anderson is no longer capable of selling sex on screen, what is she selling? And who is buying?
There once was a showgirl named Shelly
Whose career was going so swelly
But she committed the crime
Of not defying time
And got swallowed up in the Las Vegas belly
Rated R, 88 Minutes
Director: Gia Coppola
Writer: Kate Gersten
Genre: Whatever the opposite of titillation is
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Former showgirls
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Horny men
