The Last Showgirl, directed by Gia Coppola and starring Pamela Anderson, Dave Bautista, Jamie Lee Curtis, Billie Lourd, Brenda Song, and Kiernan Shipka, is a raw, intimate drama that peels back the glittering surface of Las Vegas to explore the emotional cost of aging in an industry that worships youth and novelty.
The plot unfolded as a unique slow burn, and directed with a gritty indie sensibility. Coppola did a great job capturing a looming sense of sadness and desperation, offering a thoughtful meditation on what happens when the spotlight fades.
I appreciated that the cast was female led with a wide variety of ages and ethnicities. The supporting cast, including Jamie Lee Curtis, Billie Lourd, Brenda Song, and Kiernan Shipka, all contributed to the layered depiction of a fading era and the people caught in its wake. The relationships in the film felt lived-in, complicated, and often unresolved, which added to the story’s emotional weight. At the heart of the story was Pamela Anderson’s incredible performance as Shelly Gardner, a seasoned showgirl whose entire identity is tethered to a revue that’s about to close after three decades. Anderson fully inhabited the role of a woman who is stuck in her ways, clinging to the world she knows as everything around her changes. Shelly’s stubbornness and judgment of modern life created emotional distance from those who she cared about her most, and it’s this fractured humanity that made the character so compelling. Anderson’s Golden Globe nomination felt absolutely earned. The portrayal of this character was some of her most vulnerable, career-defining work to date. Dave Bautista also shined as Eddie, the kind-hearted producer who brought surprising nuance to a role that could have easily been one-note. His quiet compassion balanced the more jagged edges of Shelly’s world, grounding the film in emotional honesty.
What really stood out was the film’s thoughtful exploration of aging in the entertainment industry, a topic rarely given this level of sensitivity. Much like The Wrestler (2008), The Last Showgirl understood the deep ache of a performer who no longer knows who they are when the curtain falls.
This isn’t a glitzy, feel-good Vegas movie. It’s raw, unflinching, and doesn’t rush to redemption, nor does it glamorize its setting. It shows the cost of staying in a role too long and the courage it takes to figure out who you are beyond the stage.