David Farnor | On 23, May 2025

Director: Gia Coppola
Cast: Pamela Anderson, Jamie Lee Curtis, Dave Bautista, Kiernan Shipka, Brenda Song
Certificate: 15

If Pamela Anderson getting her Mickey Rourke comeback moment was on your bingo card for 2025, The Last Showgirl is the film you’ve been waiting for. Gia Coppola’s drama is a fleeting but no less moving portrait of a showgirl coming face to face with a de-sparkled reality.

Hot on the heels of Hulu’s drama, Pam & Tommy, Pamela Anderson – not for the first time – seizes an opportunity to reframe her story and career in a rare dramatic role. Indeed, it was her recent Netflix documentary – Pamela, a Love Story – that caught Gia Coppola’s eyes for the lead role of Shelly, a 57-year-old showgirl who has been performing on the Las Vegas Strip for three decades. With her show, the “Razzle Dazzle”, about to close due to poor ticket sales, she has to come to terms with the fact that the world has moved on – in her eyes, to less classy, more risque, shows. Her uncertain future leads her to look back at her less-than-glamorous past, including trying to make amends with her estranged daughter, Hannah (Billie Lourd).

It sounds like heavy-handed cliche, but the script – by Kate Gersten, based on her own play, Body of Work – wears its beats with the lightness of a feather boa. There’s a fragility to it all that matches Shelly’s own existence, which feels like it could float away on the breeze at any minute.

Those around her are less untethered: younger showgirls (including Brenda Song and the always-excellent Kiernan Shipka) simply move on to new jobs, while Shelly’s best friend, Annette (an impressive Jamie Lee Curtis), has transitioned into being a cocktail waitress. But for Shelly, whose life has been defined by her Razzle Dazzle status, it’s a devastating blow to her sense of identity and purpose.

A series of vignettes frame and define Shelly through her relationships – or lack thereof – with others. One cringe-inducing scene sees her attempt to audition for a modern dance show (overseen by an impatient Jason Schwartzman), which contrasts with the warm but no less awkward date she goes on with casino manager Eddie (a brooding, sensitive Dave Bautista).

But The Last Showgirl is at its best when Shelly isn’t having to perform for people. Anderson delivers a performance of tiny details that goes beyond Shelly’s lifetime of showbiz tics, her gentle vocals settling and slowing. Shot on 16mm, it’s a moving, intimate piece that balances melancholic mood with a gentle twinkle – and Gia Coppola continues her knack for naturalistic character portraits demonstrated in Palo Alto, often simply allowing Anderson to pause and breathe. For 85 minutes, Shelly exists – and that feels like defiance enough.

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