There are many times when others praise things that make it easy for me to agree with them, be it a piece of art or an artist, or something that occurs in the world outside of my entertainment/art bubble. I would say that most of the time I tend to find my views aligning with the majority. Not all of the time though, and The Last Showgirl is one of those times when I am very much at the opposite end of the general consensus.
Pamela Anderson plays Shelly, a showgirl who finds herself with a big problem when the show that she has been part of for decades is due to close forever. Despite the dwindling audience numbers and various struggles, this news seems to be a huge shock to Shelly, Mary-Anne (Brenda Song), Jodie (Kiernan Shipka), and the other women in the show. Not sure of what she will do in the future, Shelly starts to also consider what she has given up in the past, including a relationship with her daughter, Hannah (Billie Lourd).
The first screenplay feature credit for Kate Gersten, The Last Showgirl is a disappointing and muddled look at choices made in youth that reverberate through an entire lifetime, as well as being an obvious exploration of how anyone racing against the clock of natural ageing is always going to be in danger of losing their place in an industry that values youth and beauty above almost everything else. While not a great film, it also has the misfortune of being released very close to the much superior The Substance, which explores similar themes in a much more interesting, and a much smarter, way. It's hard not to keep comparing the two, considering how they also position a "past their prime" actress in the lead role, surround them with one or two relative newcomers, and underscore the main narrative with a mixture of sadness and disappointment in the lack of progress made in the two main industries being looked at.
Director Gia Coppola obviously believes that casting Anderson in the lead role is a great way to play into the material, but that would only work if Anderson was good enough. Sadly, she is not, and the fact that she plays her character with some constant faux-Marilyn Monroe affectation in her speech doesn't help her show a big enough difference between her stage persona and her personality when not performing. Song and Shipka aren't given enough to do, with the latter also unable to make her character work when required to perform a dance that is supposed to get close to something sexy, and the only moments worth your time involve either Dave Bautista (as Eddie, a producer who has a past with Shelly), Jamie Lee Curtis (as Annette, a former showgirl now working as a cocktail waitress), or Billie Lourd (as Hannah, Shelly's daughter).
There are some parts of this that are admirable, but they're overshadowed by a lead actress who cannot make the most of her role, a couple of trips into fantasy sequences that derail the central narrative focus, and a third act that is equal parts unsatisfying and surprisingly empty. I'm not going to say that the whole thing ultimately lacks enough . . . substance, but that wouldn't be an incorrect summary. I don't know who to blame - writer, director, or star - but surely they didn't want people to watch this and just wish they had rewatched Showgirls instead.
3/10
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