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