We Can’t Follow the Spotlight Forever: The Last Showgirl and Expectations of Female Performers

In 2022, the sensationalized relationship between actress Pamela Anderson and Mötley Crue’s Tommy Lee became a victim to the limited series biopic wave of television. The series focused on the stealing and leaking of their honeymoon sextape, with a highlighting of the man who did it (Seth Rogan) as well as its impacts on both Anderson and Lee (Lily James and Sebastian Stan, respectively). The show went on to receive high accolades, mainly from the lead performances. Rogen, Stan and James received Primetime Emmy Award nominations for their portrayals and the overall was nominated for “Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series.” 

The issue, however, is the fact that Pamela Anderson, main character of the true story being told, did not approve of the project.  Pam and Tommy was made without the permission or aid of Anderson in the slightest, which she confirmed in her own Netflix documentary in 2023’s Pamela, a Love Story. 

This regressive representation of Anderson as a sex symbol from the 1990’s is a direct reflection of the contents of the show, in which she, her body, and sexuality are exploited for the media once again without her consent entirely. Since the release of the show, Anderson has become a feminist icon of the mid 2020’s; she embraces a bare face at fashion and film events, she released a plant-based cookbook, and simply has a newfound agency for herself. She made her return to acting in the 2022 Broadway production of Chicago, and following the release of her documentary, Gia Coppola sent her the script for The Last Showgirl. 

From the director that brought us critical Tumblr text Palo Alto in 2013, Gia Coppola was the writer and director of this film. A common critique to this Coppola nepo-baby’s auteurism is her “style over substance” approach. Beautiful frames are composed to accompany a script that only seems to scratch the surface of what it could say. In the case of The Last Showgirl, Coppola interestingly keeps the edges of the frame blurry, with her subject being the only aspect in focus, typically in the center of the frame. Even when the narrative tries to tell us otherwise, the showgirl is always the center of attention from Coppola's gaze and the audience's perspective.  

 We are introduced to Anderson’s “showgirl” via an audition. She stands center stage, with a bright light illuminating her as she fumbles through her audition. Firstly, she lies about her age and it's obvious.  She quickly follows up with a clarification that she hasn’t “auditioned in a while.” It is an unfortunately perfect introduction to Anderson’s character, who we come to learn is Shelly. Before this audition, Shelly was still dancing with Le Razzle Dazzle, an old-fashioned Las Vegas showgirl neo-burlesque. Alongside Shelly are her younger counterparts: Jodie (Kiernan Shipka) and Mary-Anne (Brenda Song). Eddie, portrayed by Dave Bautista, is the owner and manager of Le Razzle Dazzle and has been for many years. We get inside to their entire dynamic when the girls and Eddie are all having lunch with Shelly, including Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis), who was a former Le Razzle Dazzle dancer and now works at the casino as a cocktail waitress. It’s immediately obvious that this way of life isn’t sustainable in the slightest, with Annete unable to retire and must continue attempting to sell her looks and body for a living, yet is losing hours to the younger servers in her establishment. Jodie still shows a youthful form of optimism for her future, promising to learn French with Shelly and retire in Las Vegas. 

It is at this lunch that Eddie breaks the news that the show is finishing in two weeks. Jodie and Mary-Anne begin to audition for raunchier and modern shows, and Shelly proves herself to be still stuck in the romantic fantasy of the past. Having been a showgirl with Le Razzle Dazzle for the last twenty to thirty years, she clings to her dreams of being a true dancer. She dreams of the ballet, and the vintage glitz and glamour of life that she was promised. However, Shelly pushes through, and in a time of doom, she has no one to face but herself, dressed and decorated to the max. 

This idealized version of her past self isn’t only prominent to her, but to her estranged daughter, Hannah (Billie Lourd), who visits Shelly to let her know that she is now graduating college with a degree in photography. When Hannah decides to watch the show and see exactly what life her mother chose to live over herself, she throws shame into the face of Shelly. We also see the slight mother-daughter dependency that Jodie has grown to have for Shelly falling apart, when Jodie realizes that the life she chose is not and will never be acceptable to her family and she is truly on her own.

All of the showgirls are, unfortunately. Shelly can’t get a date or fix the relationship with her daughter, Jodie is without her family, and Annette is on the verge of homelessness. This brutally honest display on the life of a performer is what makes the technical choices made by Coppola stand out. The times change and the spotlight moves to highlight the next big thing. The next beauty standard, the next thing that's considered hot. Sex is selling more and more, and Shelly refuses to grasp it. In addition to that, as the director tells her in the audition, the talents that Shelly may have displayed in her earlier career have no space in the current age of performance. 

However, what else is there for these women when the spotlight moves off of them? Are they meant to just continue to adapt to something outside their standards? Are they meant for a life of maltreatment by the industry that promised them stardom and dreams come true? The film also calls into question the audience’s participation in the sensationalizing of these women. By the rules of the camera, we are not allowed to see anything but these women. 

Although Pamela Anderson took agency of her own life, making her own documentary with her son and writing a cookbook about the new life she’s adapted, she still finds herself a victim of the nostalgic romanticism of who she once was, or presented as to the public. Becoming an actress was never in her path, and certainly the sex-symbol status was something out of her control. Her past remains something in the spotlight, with newer generations watching shows like Pam and Tommy and older generations having the image of her 90’s persona ingrained in their mind for something that was completely out of Anderson’s control.  The spotlight itself sits outside the hands of the stage, and the sad reality is that until it moves on to someone else, the show must go on in any way it can. 

Written by Ana Marks

EP Review: Little House by Rachel Chinouriri

“I know Judas famously was someone who betrayed Jesus in the Bible, however, I wanted to speak about Judas in the way of me betraying myself to fall in love with Isaac”  this is what the artist, Rachel Chinouriri, had to say about Track three “Judas” on her recent EP, “little house” but, let’s start at the beginning. 

The newly released EP “Little House” by Rachel Chinouriri is a beautiful exploration into the artist falling in love. Her discography is full of her experiences, her struggles, her fears, and everything in between, but this EP felt like a new step. An admirable departure from the distraught and trauma of her second recent body of work, What a Devastating Turn of Events from last year. Even with only four tracks, Rachel Chinouriri makes us feel like we're experiencing the highs and lows of new love, like we’re the ones falling in love. In her introduction to the EP on Soundcloud, she said that her vision for creating this EP was born from an older, now revised, dream of living alone in a little house with lots of land and animals. But ever since she met her current partner, she realized that he made her vision “feel very complete”, and her dream now includes him.

The first track, aptly named “Can we talk about Isaac?” after her partner, captures the joy of a new love. The song begins with a happy and upbeat tone, with an almost childlike innocence to the way she sings about Isaac. The words feel like a confessional, an excited outpouring of emotions universally associated with the early stages of love. Her voice is uplifting, and everything feels bright and full of potential. As the song progresses, there is some slight apprehension that creeps in. Vulnerability has broken through. 

This moment of tension emerges from a fear of the unknown. Chinouriri reflects that they come from a place of trauma, saying that she “never felt protected really in my life, especially from men” in her interview with Genius. Yet, the wonder of new love and excitement takes over again towards the end of the song, with hope leading the way. Where will vulnerability take her, and take this new love?

Following this is “23:42”, a smooth, funky track that pulses with joy, playfulness, and the electric thrill of falling in love. The song celebrates the playfulness of romance, especially the first blossoms, with its infectious bassline and the sense of freedom that comes when you’re no longer afraid to embrace feelings and love. With the chorus’ “But if you wanted my attention/ Well, alright, well, alright/ I’m all in, no hesitation”, Chinouriri almost grabs the listener to join her on cloud nine. 

Vulnerability doesn’t feel overwhelming anymore; it feels like a natural unwrapping, a natural blooming. It seems like she’s finally allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of being in love without the weight of previous emotional baggage. As Chinouriri opens up to the idea of love, she’s not just falling for Isaac but also allowing herself to be vulnerable in a way that feels both empowering and freeing. The balance between fun and vulnerability gives the song an authenticity that’s hard to ignore, making it easy to relate to anyone who has ever let their guard down and embraced the joy of love without reservation despite so much fear. The track is a sonic snapshot of the moment when you finally realize that love doesn’t have to be complicated or hard, at least not anymore.

“Judas” takes a haunting turn from the cheerful, positive tones of the previous two tracks. The melancholic exploration of vulnerability and fear exposes the complicated journey of falling in love. It wasn’t the Disney fairytale we thought it was with the previous two tracks. While the title’s reference to Judas points to betrayal, Chinouriri flips our expectations on their head to sing about self-betrayal, pulling us into her emotional landscape where opening up to love may feel like you’re sacrificing a part of yourself in the process. 

This isn’t a song of clear-cut joy or triumph. It’s about those uncomfortable moments when you have to face your own fears and doubts and insecurities and trauma to make something work. Because you know it is worth it. When Chinouriri’s vocals, and we’re left with the instrumental, it feels like you’re standing with her on the edge of a deep and unknown abyss, all while the echo of space surrounds you both. You can feel her fear of falling, but the echo reminds us we can only resolve it by taking that leap. The outro provides some glimmer of resolution. She gave herself over to love despite her fears, but there is no regret. Not at all.

The finale “Indigo” is a love letter with a near ecstatic melody and sentimental lyrics, capturing the essence of a relationship that feels as transformative as it is rhapsodic. While the song leans heavily into the melancholy initially, it evolves into something more euphoric as it unfolds, mirroring Chinouriri’s journey of love, filled with tender memories and the deep vulnerability that comes with truly letting go of fear and falling for someone. The opening verse sets the tone beautifully, drawing listeners into a moment of shared intimacy described in almost cinematic detail with how she cherishes it deeply.

The production feels dreamy and atmospheric, filled with lush, ambient textures that echo Chinouriri’s melancholic yet nostalgic sentiment. The turning point is when Chinouriri sings, “I learnt to love you by letting go/ You taught me something I didn’t know.” She reveals the emotional crux of both the song and her process to love: the vulnerability that love demands, and the growth that comes with it. 

By the outro, there is a noticeable shift. The gentle melody is bolstered with an euphoric joy that lifts, almost like the song itself is growing into the euphoria that Chinouriri feels when she’s with Isaac. There’s a sense of awe here, as she recognizes that love came to her when she least expected it, yet it feels undeniably right. It’s a moment of self-doubt, but it quickly gives way to gratitude and acceptance. Maybe fate dictates love by simply letting it unfold naturally, in its own time, by its own right. 

In the EP’s introduction on Soundcloud, Chinouriri said that she realized upon meeting her partner that her previously not wanting a partner was her “protecting herself from future pain”. But meeting Issac “fixed a very heartbroken girl” and she has bloomed into a “not so heartbroken woman”. The EP not only takes us on this journey but encapsulates us in every beautiful and bittersweet moment that comes with learning to let yourself love and be loved.

May we all become not so heartbroken people, even if it’s not instantly.

Why You'll Be Listening To Walter The Producer's New Single, “Tell Me Again” Again and Again and Again...

If you have not listened to Walter The Producer yet, now is the time to start before everyone knows his name. His discography shows his dexterity in creating music that sticks with you, within how he blends genres. From production down to lyrics and harmonies, Reid (Walter The Producer) is in total control and puts his all into the art he releases.

As his music career continues to flourish, his newest single “Tell Me Again” is nothing short of infectious melodies and instrumentals akin to his previous releases. His most recent album from June of 2024, PLEASE HELP ME I’M SCARED, contains honest lyricism with genre-bending production that excites the listener. There are pulsating drum beats and echoing vocals that curate a dreamy atmosphere in many of his tracks.

“Tell Me Again” begins with an aching guitar and heavy drums as Reid's yearning vocals enter. The lyricism is forward in this track, describing the difficulty in accepting the end of a relationship and letting someone who once was so close to you, turn into a stranger. The storytelling depicts the singer visiting the doctor, begging to be told that the relationship was real and not a figment of his imagination. That first verse showcases the desperation in trying to accept the reality of the end, especially when a person who spent every day with you no longer does, “I said tell me again / How many miles have I wasted driving someone that don’t exist?”.

There is a sense of longing and confusion within the lyrics that is equally translated into the instrumentals. Sonically, you can hear this struggle to accept the loss of one’s presence in the slow rhythm, the melancholic electric guitar, and the steady drums. If you removed the lyrics, you would still sense this lack of certainty. Layered vocals blend seamlessly as sparkling keys transition the chorus to the second verse. As the song resumes its pace, the despair in his voice becomes more prominent with more intense harmonies and vulnerable lyricism, “I mean please, Doctor, please don’t tell me it was all in my head.”

One can say the short track does justice to showing how quickly something good can come to an end. Contrasting the meaning of the song to the instrumentals–the rhythm, and melody stay somewhat the same and end abruptly instead of fading out. What intensifies throughout are his vocals, drums, and the keys as the song closes out. In his lyricism, you sense his need for validation that the relationship was worth it and real, even though it feels so far away. The irony of the track title being “Tell Me Again” all the while hoping his biggest fear is not told to him. He only wants to be told what he wants to hear–don’t we all?

This being one of his more stripped-back songs, Walter The Producer only continues to show his versatility within his art. Not only a talented producer, which is demonstrated in his earlier releases, but also a meaningful lyricist seeking to share stories. An addictive, head-nodding beat encapsulating the all-consuming feeling of estrangement with a significant other. This new track excites me for the future of WTP projects.

Listen to Walter The Producer’s new single, “Tell Me Again,” and keep up with him on his socials for future releases!

Written by Amy Kapel

Photography by Giulio Rose Giannini