Should I Watch…The Last Showgirl?
DISCLAIMER: All opinions in this post are my own. All images belong to Roadside Attractions.
What Worked:
Ms. Jamie Lee Curtis. She understood the tone and theatricality that the actors’ performances needed in order to make the language of the script work. Her movements were loose and free, she embodied fun, chaotic messiness, and she was able to bring a vulnerability to Annette during her low points that actually made her one of the most honest, developed characters in the entire film.
Bonus points for the hair and makeup department for their design of Annette - they completely transformed her into a new woman.
Vegas as her own character. The entire core of The Last Showgirl boiled down to a break-up story; Shelly (played by Pamela Anderson) has been in a long-term relationship with Vegas for 30 years. However, she never realized that Vegas was only keeping her around as long as she was young and beautiful, only to discard her and leave her with nothing the second she stopped being useful - it didn’t love her, only the idea of her.
This is showcased in a few heartbreaking shots, where Shelly looks up at the lights of the glitz and glamor of her (now) ex, bare-faced and vulnerable:
These moments perfectly captured the beating heart of the story. My one gripe is there weren’t more of them throughout the film.
3. The emotional core. I resonated with the film’s exploration of aging out of “desirability” deeply. It’s been a theme that I’ve been continuously exploring in one way or another in my own work, and something I’ve been grappling with mentally ever since I turned 25. My first-ever short film was my own exploration of this topic, though I think The Last Showgirl does it infinitely better.
I also should give kudos to the script for not wandering down the overdone “older woman gets replaced by younger, hotter version of herself” trope as a way of creating conflict - instead, the women almost completely ignore the fact that Shelly and Annette are old; sure, they talk about retirement accounts and stand-in mothering (Shelly to Jodie), but they don’t really harp on about their age differences, much the same as in most of my in-real-life experiences.
4. The costumes. Need I say more? I meannn:
They’re bold, they’re theatrical, they’re a tiny bit chintzy, they’re everything Shelly fell in love with. Iconic. Shout out Jacqueline Getty.
What I Would Have Changed:
The script. I know that seems hugely shady to say, but hear me out - the script’s dialogue is still majorly stuck in theater world (it was adapted from Kate Gersten’s stage play Body of Work); the characters have emotional, heightened, “this is the theme of the film” language that would feel right at home on a stage, where seeing actors’ faces isn’t always possible. But watching them up-close and personal, combined with the lack of character development, kneecaps the actors’ performances. See: Billie Lourd’s scene where her character confronts Shelly about leaving her behind for showbiz.
Character Development. The story seemed to over-rely on the institution of Pamela Anderson, and all the context of her real life, as a fill-in for the actual development of the character of Shelly. Maybe Coppola and Gersten were banking on the audience projecting all of the depth and nuance of Anderson onto Shelly - with some success; see - people’s reviews:
Obviously, these are cherry-picked, but there’s more where these came from.
As a Zillennial girlie, the only awareness I had of Pam Anderson before this film was in very, very broad strokes (basically, “oh, she’s the Baywatch lady”), so while I could see what they were going for as I watched the film, it did little to fill out Shelly.
3. The Blocking. Nearly every scene in the film is one of two things: a) Two or more people sitting and talking, or b) Pamela Anderson dancing. Again, I think this is a holdover from the script’s theater origins - having people sitting and talking onstage isn’t a problem, it’s pretty much the only thing you can do. But as a film, I expected a bit more of showing, not telling (to use a probably overused phrase). Show me grand, nostalgic shots of the Vegas strip; show me the intricate details I can’t get on stage (Does Shelly’s vanity still have the same makeup she used in the 80s? Does she have a can of AquaNet? Let me see my way into her psyche!!!); show me the act that Shelly loves so much, but has to say goodbye to, for Heaven’s sake! I think there was a huge missed opportunity here that would’ve not only helped the storytelling visually, but helped do a lot of emotional legwork between Shelly and the audience, allowing us to see the world through her eyes. As I mentioned before, those fleeting moments of Shelly walking among the lights of Vegas, almost a sad lover saying goodbye, did far more for story and character depth than any of the words that came out of the actors’ mouths.
(As I’m typing this, my mind is playing Devil’s advocate and wondering - maybe that was the point of Coppola’s artistic choice? Maybe we’re supposed to focus on Shelly’s face and the faces of the other characters, because that’s how we’re all judged in the world? If so, I rescind my criticism and humble myself before you all.)
Soooo, should you watch it?
I thought The Last Showgirl felt like a typical indie, and was predictable, but enjoyable. I didn’t find myself checking my phone once, which these days is (unfortunately) a metric for me.
I’d recommend this film to indie lovers and slice-of-life stans, and take the people who are more into plot-driven stories to go see something else.
That's all for today! Be sure to check back in next month, where i'll be sharing my thoughts on the cult-classic comedy "movie 43"!