"Doing the Job that You Don't Really Love. That's Hard" The Last Showgirl Review

Gia Coppola’s The Last Showgirl depicts a subtle descend into despair and defeat when Shelly Gardner’s one true love is ripped out from under her; forcing her to come to terms with the life she gave up for a spot on the stage. Pamela Anderson as Shelly and Jamie Lee Curtis as Annette offer such raw performances, offering a lens into the life of women who were once admired for the same thing they now desperate for: beauty and youth. This film uses the Las Vegas strip as a backdrop for a story about loss. Loss of security; loss of loved ones, and loss of self. One constant remains however, Shelly’s passion and belief that she made the right choice to chase her dreams.

Last night I had the pleasure of finally watching The Last Showgirl on Prime, and it left me in tears longing for more. Without further adieu let’s get into the review, Cin Cin let’s begin!

The Last Showgirl is a film exploring both desperation and desire for the entertainment industry and performance, more specifically the traditions that seems to fade over time. Le Razzle Dazzle is being shut down after a 38 year run with Shelly, a veteran dancer, feels hopeless in the search for a new path. She is forced to come to terms with her future, her age, and her past choices when her estranged daughter Hannah (Billie Lourd) comes by to pay her a visit. Hannah wants to be a photographer, like her mother she has a passion for the arts, however she feels conflicted due to the discouragement she receives from her stepmother. This leads to a conversation later in the film when Shelly delivers my favorite line in the film, “Doing the job you don’t really love. That’s hard.” This line clearly fuels Shelly’s belief that she made the right choice to leave her family behind to pursue Le Razzle Dazzle because of what it meant to her.

We often see stories on screen that depict the sacrifice it takes for people to leave everything for the possibility of an opportunity in Hollywood, New York, or in this instance Vegas. What we rarely see is how it impacts the people we choose to leave behind in pursuit of that dream. I really loved the tension between Shelly and Hannah in the dressing room when they were both trying to defend themselves and their beliefs toward Shelly’s career. Shelly who left Hannah in the parking lot with a Gameboy as a child so she could perform on stage nearly every night. Hannah hoped Le Razzle Dazzle was worth leaving her behind, but after finally taking a seat in the audience she is embarrassed and angry by the her mother’s attachment to this “nudie show” as she calls it.

Brenda Song and Kiernan Shipka as Mary-Anne and Jodi are the glue that holds the film, and Shelly, together even though she doesn’t realize it. Jodi and Mary-Anne offer comic relief, sisterhood, and an understanding of the reality of this industry- specifically its perception of women who reach a certain age; similar to that of The Substance. These women are all at different stages in their lives, working the same job, chasing a dream and a feeling. Shelly says it herself may times in the film; she wants to feel beautiful and Le Razzle Dazzle offers her that escape and expression. But with the show coming to an end, and her being 57 years old it is not as easy for her to ride the same wave as Jodi and Mary-Anne. Shelly and Annette bond over their shared sadness for the loss of the show and realization that the golden days are over.

There is a scene in the locker room with Annette and Shelly, Annette who works in cocktailing on the casino floor is cut early alongside another older woman. There is brief moment between Annette and the other woman when she says “fuck ‘em.” I took that 'fuck ’em' as more than just a jab at their employers or the younger girls taking their place—it was a full-throttle 'fuck you' to a system that worships young girls for their youth but punishes women for daring to age.

The film’s production design amplifies its sense of glitz and glamour, enhancing the existing pink and blue palette with a distinctly feminine touch. While I wished the film was longer, its pacing mirrored that of a live show—fast-paced and high-energy, with well-placed pauses for the stunning dance sequences from Shelly and Annette. The sound design is romantic and lyrical, serving as the emotional catalyst alongside Shelly’s descend into despair. I do wish there was a moment of gratitude for Shelly and her career, whether it was self-acceptance or appreciation- but I think we get a taste of that with the ambiguous final scene between her, Hannah, and Eddie. Batista gives a perfect performance of Eddie, the stage manager of La Razzle Dazzle who not only has a soft spot in his heart for the traditions of the show, he also has a soft spot for Shelly.

Though Shelly may be selfish in all of her relationships, with her friends and her daughter and Eddie, she genuinely believes that her choice to pursue this career was the one and only right choice for her. We see her take out those frustrations on Hannah in the dressing room, Eddie at dinner, a desperate Jodi at her front door, and the Director of the show she auditions for- which we see briefly as the opening scene of the film. The tangled dynamics of this makeshift family make the sting of loss and betrayal all the more palpable when these women are yanked from their hard-earned spots on stage.

The Last Showgirl is not only a film about loss and desperation however, it also tells the story of the lost attraction to the land of Las Vegas. This bleeds into a similar feeling towards La La Land, and how the dreams and aspirations artists have towards the west are fading facades in modern day. Gia Coppola has created a true classic for girls like myself who regret giving up on some passions to make room for some realities. I think this film’s cinematography and lighting design speaks for itself, but overall it is rich with romanticization of entertainment and performance.

The final scene of the film is the final performance of Le Razzle Dazzle, that slowly transforms into Shelly’s featured solo. If this is actually happening or a dream state for Shelly is unclear, offering an ambiguous and cyclical ending to the film. The tearing of her costume throughout the film works to symbolize Shelly slowly breaking down, not only due to her circumstance but also her age. Life doesn’t come to a screeching halt for Shelly just because she’s 57 and watching her security and dream slip away—it merely hits pause for a moment. What this film does so well is allow us to sit in those pauses and reflect alongside Shelly about the expectations of women, specifically the women we praise for beauty and sexuality. While at the same time shaming them for using those attributes to their advantage in industries that profit off their naivety.

I rated this film a 4.5/5 simply because I yearned for more, but I think that is a testament to the messaging of the film. No matter what your passionate about, you have to choose if you want to spend your life chasing that. If so, you have to be aware of its effect on the people around you, and also yourself. Doing something you don’t love for the promise of safety isn’t a luxury, it’s also sacrifice. Our dreams are what makes us different, just because someone’s dreams are different than yours doesn’t make them unimportant (as Meg states in Little Women) . Looks may fade, beauty may dim, and the spotlight may shift—but Shelly’s love for performing never wavers. Long after the credits roll and the final curtain falls, it’s clear: it never will.

I encourage you to watch this film and take it all in, the lights, the sound, the captivating sequences of dance and dismay. Available on Prime, The Last Showgirl is a real show-stopper and tear-jerker. Till next time stay flirty, stay thirsty, and continue to chase your dreams even if your peers find them silly. Keep dancing even when the music stops because life continues on even after the credits roll. Cin Cin!

See you soon,

Paige B.