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“The Last Showgirl” almost feels like a spiritual sequel to Paul Verhoeven’s 1995 cult classic “Showgirls“, starring Elizabeth Berkley. In fact, it’s not a stretch to imagine Berkley’s fierce and fiery Nomi Malone stepping into the lead role here. Both films center on the lives of Las Vegas showgirls performing in provocative, topless revues, navigating a world built on glitter, grit, and ambition. But instead of Berkley, the film pulls off a clever bit of stunt casting by handing the spotlight to none other than Pamela Anderson—the ultimate 90s bombshell—bringing her iconic sex appeal and surprising emotional depth to the title role.
In “The Last Showgirl”, a seasoned Las Vegas showgirl named Shelly finds her world upended when the iconic casino where she’s performed for decades suddenly closes its doors. Facing an uncertain future in a city that’s rapidly leaving her kind behind, Shelly is forced to confront questions of identity, reinvention, and purpose.
In the 1990s, Pamela Anderson was nothing short of a pop culture juggernaut. After a few appearances in Playboy, she landed a recurring role on the hit sitcom “Home Improvement”, but it was her turn as lifeguard C.J. Parker on “Baywatch” that truly cemented her status as the ultimate fantasy of an entire generation of teenage boys and men. At the height of her fame, she continued posing for Playboy and took on roles in a string of low-budget films—each heavy on gratuitous nudity but light on substance. However, after the critical and commercial flop “Barb Wire” and the highly publicized leak of her sex tape with Tommy Lee, Pamela’s star began to dim, and she became more of a nostalgic symbol of 90s excess than a serious performer.
So, casting her as the lead in a quiet, introspective character study like “The Last Showgirl” feels like a risky move. And yet, the gamble pays off. Anderson brings a raw vulnerability and authenticity to Shelly, a character whose arc mirrors her own in many ways. Like Pamela, Shelly rose to fame in the ’80s on the strength of her looks, only to watch time slowly strip away the image that once defined her. It’s no coincidence that Anderson has already explored similar themes in her own documentary—this role feels lived-in, even cathartic. For perhaps the first time, we’re not just watching Pamela Anderson—we’re seeing her.
Her credibility is elevated by a strong supporting cast, most notably Academy Award winner Jamie Lee Curtis, who is almost unrecognizable as Annette, Shelly’s best friend and a former showgirl turned cocktail waitress. Annette stands by Shelly through the emotional fallout of their revue’s closure, offering tough love and loyal companionship. Curtis disappears into the role with a scruffy red wig, stark white lipstick, fake breasts, and an aggressively orange tan. It’s a look that instantly tells you this is a woman with a story—one that’s been lived, not just performed.
Kiernan Shipka plays a young performer brimming with ambition, representing the future Shelly can no longer claim—a stark contrast that adds emotional weight to the story. Meanwhile, Dave Bautista delivers a surprisingly nuanced performance as Eddie, the stage manager of the long-running Las Vegas revue where Shelly has spent most of her life. Their shared history adds a complex, bittersweet layer to the film.
As a character study of a woman down on her luck, “The Last Showgirl” isn’t exactly a feel-good experience. It follows Shelly as she faces the slow unraveling of everything that once defined her—her career, her identity, and her sense of purpose—with no clear path to redemption. One particularly gutting moment comes during an audition, where she’s bluntly dismissed as “yesterday’s news”, a scene that captures the cruel honesty of aging in an industry obsessed with youth. While there are glimmers of hope and moments of warmth, the film doesn’t shy away from showing just how hard the fall can be. Through it all, Anderson delivers a raw, restrained, and deeply human performance, proving she’s more than capable of carrying the emotional weight of the story.
The film explores similar themes to “The Substance“, which was released the same year, particularly around aging, female identity, and the pressures of maintaining relevance in a youth-obsessed culture. However, “The Last Showgirl” takes a far more grounded and intimate approach. Where “The Substance” dives headfirst into surreal, body-horror territory and embraces a bold, almost campy tone, “The Last Showgirl” stays rooted in emotional realism. It forgoes the zany overdrive and genre flourishes of its counterpart, opting instead for quiet moments of introspection and a slow-burn sense of loss. The result is a film that may not shock, but lingers with its quiet honesty.
I’m intrigued to see what “The Last Showgirl” will mean for Pamela Anderson’s career. Will it open the floodgates for more substantial roles for mature women, much like the opportunities Helen Mirren, Cate Blanchett, and co-star Jamie Lee Curtis are currently enjoying? Or will it end up being a one-off, the final noteworthy chapter in her resume? I’m hoping for the former, but given Hollywood’s long history of sidelining aging female talent, I’m not placing any bets just yet. The odds aren’t exactly in her favor, but here’s to hoping this is the beginning of a more rewarding second act for Anderson.
