‘The Last Showgirl’ Review: Pamela Anderson Soars in Gia Coppola’s Las Vegas-Set Drama

“What are you, bored? This is breasts, and rhinestones, and joy!”

One of the last great films to depict the infamous Las Vegas strip’s seediness and its toll on its inhabitants was “Leaving Las Vegas.” Nicholas Cage won an Academy Award for portraying an alcoholic determined to drink his life away in a filthy and nuanced performance. The film’s success revolved around Cage and screen partner Elisabeth Shue’s willingness to throw everything they had into an indie drama full of deceit and darkness.

Pamela Anderson would now like Cage and Shue to hold her beer … or more realistically, her wings.

Director Gia Coppola takes a modern audience into the dazzling world of Las Vegas revues and showgirls in the aptly titled “The Last Showgirl.” Anderson stars as Shelley, an aging performer who reveres The Razzle Dazzle, a seemingly ancient remnant of Las Vegas’s golden past. Equipped with dance skills and a love of live performances, Shelley is heartbroken when it’s announced that the show she’s dedicated her life to will close for good in two weeks’ time.

A life well-lived in Shelley’s mind, yet others around her might disagree with that assessment. She weaves in and out of her estranged daughter’s (Billie Lourd) life as she desperately clings to her youth and the show she’s taken pride in for decades. She mentors young dancers in the show (a very underutilized Brenda Song and Kiernan Shipka) while maintaining the respect of her best friend, Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis).

But Shelley doesn’t have a plan on how to move forward from the show that’s brought her happiness and comfort living in the desert city she calls home. She attempts to rekindle a romance with the show’s stage manager, Eddie (a long-haired Dave Bautista), while holding out hope that she’ll figure out her next step once the show closes. But for 85 minutes of screen time, it isn’t apparent where Shelley will go next or if she’ll check her pride at the door long enough to audition for one of Las Vegas’ newly provocative shows that have become a popular mainstay with younger audiences.

“The Last Showgirl” is a triumph for Anderson at a time when Hollywood is poised for comebacks. As a 57-year-old character hanging on to her dreams, the actress is raw, beautiful and manic, giving credence to Shelley as she slowly unravels within her disappointment.

If not for Anderson, “The Last Showgirl” quite possibly could be a stale, unoriginal peek behind the curtain of a Las Vegas in transition. Gone are the days of showgirls and dinner theater entertainment as The City of Sin now appeals to a crowd looking for sex on stage rather than subtle nudity with a hint of class. Coppola and writer Kate Gersten offer nothing more to the premise outside of Shelley’s inner circle crumbling around her despite nuanced and sensitive performances from Bautista and Lourd. With its handheld camera work and conventional storytelling, Coppola’s vision for the film never reaches its full potential in a way that connects with its audience.

It’s an off-beat movie where there are far too many sequences showing the main characters wandering around The Strip, aimlessly pondering into the void. Jamie Lee Curtis is an overly bronzed, orange-haired cocktail waitress with no discernible skills. She despises newcomers to the profession but offers very little support to Shelley in her friend’s moment of need. Most of the supporting characters are underdeveloped outside of Shelley, making a shallow premise just that much more uninteresting and difficult to resonate with.

Yet, there’s a likability to the inner workings of Las Vegas show life and what it takes to be a success in a ruthless business full of young and determined starlets.

But Anderson is the reason to watch “The Last Showgirl.” Her breathy and high-pitched performance is a daring addition to the Vegas-set movies of yesteryear.

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