The Last Showgirl by Gia Coppola - a belated review

(Or, maybe letterboxd was right about this one)

This review contains spoilers - you’ve been warned!

The Last Showgirl is director Gia Coppola’s visually dazzling but ultimately lacklustre film about an ageing showgirl, Shelley (played by a fantastic Pamela Anderson) as she contends with the Vegas show she has done for three decades abruptly ending. The screenplay was adapted by Kate Gersten from her own play, Body of Work. Although the film is shot beautifully and explores some interesting themes amongst heartfelt moments, it suffers from a bad script and a dull pace.

In comparison, Gia Coppola (niece of Sofia Coppola)’s first directorial debut Palo Alto, stood out as a poignant and well-executed coming of age movie (no doubt getting comparisons to Sofia’s own The Virgin Suicides). Adapted by Coppola from actor James Franco’s linked short stories (also titled Palo Alto) into an overall cohesive narrative with a fulfilling arc, Coppola’s screenplay captures the loneliness of the suburban high school experience. The cool and atmospheric soundtrack and quotable lines of Palo Alto inspired many Tumblr screencaps and reblogs when the film came out in 2013. Frano’s book itself is hideous - full of outdated and gratuitous stereotypes and shock-value masquerading as adolescent coming of age. I would advise avoiding it at all costs - this is an example of skip the book, just watch the movie. Franco’s casting in the film is also ....somewhat odd ....when considering that he wrote the book (and which character he plays…). However, somehow under Coppola’s gaze and focus on lead Emma Robert’s character April, the film feels both artistic and raw.

I cannot say the same for The Last Showgirl's script. Immediately falling into the trap of telling instead of showing, the dialogue between the main characters feels forced and unnatural at times. Anderson’s sweetness saves a few moments where we are endeared by Shelley’s quirks, but only just, such as when she chaotically tries to leave her daughter a message on her home phone. Interesting, the film maintains a quality of being in the present but an unspecified year by the lack of modern technology, instead showing corded phones, flip phones and vintage furnishings in Shelleys’ home.

Las Vegas itself provides a compelling backdrop, particularly seeing the perspective and inner lives of those who work to entertain and live in a city known for transient tourism. No doubt the most stark metaphor being the ‘dazzle’ of Vegas fading, as Shelley herself has aged during her time in the show (and by extension, her beauty has faded). However, validly, the most common critique this movie has gotten is the endless, lengthy shots of Anderson standing around in various spots in Vegas. It began to feel unnecessary, though shooting on film was certainly a gorgeous choice. No doubt clips from this movie will be used for edits to Lana Del Rey songs (I’m thinking Off To The Races….or some of her unreleased songs).

Kiernan Shipka and Brenda Song both gave great performances as other cast members of the show. Shipka particularly stands out in some of the more engaging moments of conflict (and humour), as a foil to Shelley’s age and values. Billie Lourd, however, felt miscast. Although she absolutely had the acting prowess and talent to carry the role and the mother/daughter confrontation, it was distracting how much older than the character she is playing is (Hannah is supposed to be graduating college, so approximately 22 years old - Lourd is 32). This stands out even more in comparison to baby-faced Shipka (25 years old playing a 19 year old). Jamie Lee Curtis’ character grew on me despite perpetuating the worst of some of the script’s issues. However, it almost felt like she was in the wrong movie - her secondary character felt like she belonged in a grittier, more ‘classic’ Hollywood film about Las Vegas. Her dance to Total Eclipse of the Heart felt iconic, and tapped into a campiness that the rest of the film could have benefitted from. I think Curtis’ character was much needed to have a single other storyline going on, however minor.

As the film progresses, we eventually get the reveal that Hannah is Eddie (the producer of the shows) daughter. However, this information feels like a bit of a ‘huh?’ moment, and although it elucidates some more information about Shelley’s past and her relationship with Eddie, it has no real bearing. Maybe it serves to show us that the final scene must be a dream sequence or fantasy, as we see Hannah and Eddie sitting together in the audience watching Shelley perform.

The film raises some interesting themes, and doesn’t shy away from depicting Shelley as an imperfect woman and mother, which was at the heart of some of the best and most interesting scenes. It questions Shelley’s role as a maternal figure in the lives of both her biological daughter, and her much younger co-workers (who Shipka’s character calls ‘family’). Shelley’s outburst of ‘I don’t love you’ in response to Mary-Anne’s comforting stood out as her exerting agency, rather than her conforming to the ‘work mum’ figure that may have been placed upon her (and at times, benefitted her). Turning away Shipka’s character at the door felt cruel, but we hear Shelley’s words later - ‘I already have a daughter’. The film also considered ‘was it all worth it?’ and ‘what counts as art?’, amongst other questions - however, these never feel fully explored, and are instead only touched on in a way that lacks depth.

Ultimately, Pamela gave a vulnerable and poignant performance, especially in light of the material she was working with, with the film feeling like it sacrificed substance for style.