The Last Showgirl movie review: Disconnect between ambition and execution in Pamela Anderson film

To understand the hype around The Last Showgirl, you have to go back two years. Or, more accurately, you have to go back three decades.

There is no way to separate Shelly, the fictional titular character in The Last Showgirl, from the actor who plays her, Pamela Anderson. The two are entwined, with Anderson’s story projected onto Shelly and, eventually, vice versa.

Known and dismissed for most of her career as an airhead Baywatch star whose other claim to fame was a sex-tape (released without her consent), Anderson’s place in the zeitgeist has been undergoing a transformation.

Core to that was the release of Pamela, a Love Story. The 2023 documentary didn’t just rewrite her story, it was a reclamation. For many, they saw Anderson for the first time.

She was no longer a sexual fantasy or a threat, a hussy or a lightweight kook. She was finally able to be seen as a woman with agency, compassion and, perhaps she would bristle at this word, a victim.

The empathy Pamela, a Love Story engendered led to many people to reconsider if they had judged Anderson by the wrong standards. She’s also allowed herself to drive her own relationship with the public, making appearances on red carpets, often make-up free, as if to say, “this is me, on my terms”.

When you consider all that context, The Last Showgirl looks to be almost entirely an Anderson vehicle, and for her performance, she was nominated for a Golden Globe and will be competing for a Screen Actors Guild gong.

Directed by Gia Coppola and written by Kate Gersten, the film is centred on Shelly, who has for three decades been a dancer at the Las Vegas burlesque-type dance revue Le Razzle Dazzle. She is the longest serving dancer among a group of young performers, including Jodie (Kiernan Shipka) and Mary-Anne (Brenda Song), and is friends with the stage manager Eddie (Dave Bautista).

When Shelly discovers the revue is to close due to declining audience numbers, she doesn’t know what to do next. The revue has been everything to her, she feels beautiful and powerful when she’s on stage.

Shelly’s options are limited. Now in her late-50s, it’s unlikely she’ll land another dancing gig, and we’re shown that the other path, becoming a cocktail waitress like her friend and former co-star Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis), has pitfalls.

Coppola (granddaughter of Francis Ford) clearly loves Shelly, who is portrayed as a tragic figure, the last person to realise the world she clings onto no longer exists, if it ever did.

The filmmaker uses dreamy aesthetics to suggest Shelly doesn’t live in the same reality as everyone else. There are many scenes of Anderson, wordlessly set against hazy shots of the Las Vegas strip and skyline.

Sin City is already a place out of time and space, where dreams are sold but rarely realised, and the child-like Shelly comes off like someone who couldn’t have made it anywhere else.

There are parallels between Shelly and Anderson’s stories, of a woman trying to find her second act in a world that has defined her value for her.

There are rich themes here there’s a disconnect between its ambition and its execution. The Last Showgirl wouldn’t be as half-interesting without audiences bringing to it their regard of Anderson.

Coppola’s wandering visuals feels as if it’s going for cinema verite but her direction of her performers is heightened, verging on soapy, and out of step with the naturalistic style.

Ditto with the dialogue, which is delivered with the melodrama of opera but is as mundane as mumblecore.

When the duelling tones are bumping you out of the film, which is often, you end up wondering, “Is Anderson really good in this or really bad?”.

That’s not a question you should be asking.

Rating: 2.5/5

The Last Showgirl is in cinemas on February