No Oscar nomination .. but thumbs up anyway
Had you told me at any point in the last x-amount of time that Pamela Anderson would give a fantastic performance in a narrative feature directed by Gia Coppola, a descendant of the Coppolas … well, I guess I wouldn’t quite know how to decipher that information.
Not that Anderson wasn’t capable of the work; she was a prime target of a stereotype for her time. Do you remember the ’90s? She was a typecast from the get-go: The buxom blonde running alongside David Hasselhoff in Baywatch, the trophy rockstar wife and prized fantasy of many early-internet lumps who spent hours fidgeting with AOL.
Had she been given the chance to shine in a serious role, it wouldn’t have made a dent, save for the gossip columns taking her to task for even trying. Does Barb Wire even count? She was doomed out of the chute, never given the chance to actually show her talent.
If she had filmed a few good roles and fallen into character roles, as is the usual arc for show business, her performance would be adorned with the tired acclaim of “She’s a revelation” or “Her performance is a resurrection.” Boy, do people love throwing those phrases around without knowing where they will land.
Joke’s on them. Anderson’s performance in the The Last Showgirl, a 2024 drama film written by Kate Gersten, is worthy of such praise, without the “Oh hey, where did you go?” pretense. You finally get to see Anderson act her ass off in a prime role.
Shelly is the last member of a once-prestigious Vegas showgirl act, clinging to the past as the show is canceled after 30+ years. She has nothing to fall back on, thanks to ignoring Father Time. Her motherly advice to the younger dancers is follow the tales of her glory days.
But nostalgia doesn’t pay the bills.
Yet, it’s that nostalgia that keeps Shelly coming back and has been all these years, even as her facade of reality crashes and she’s left to sift through the detritus.
She can’t pronounce her estranged daughter’s name during a desperate phone call; her costume snags in the next night’s show; her knees buckle on the way to the stage the night after; and she’s given the “old timer” treatment by the younger roster.
All the while, she has Annette (played by Jamie Lee Curtis in a scene-chewing performance) as her mother hen. Annette was a former head of the show-line but became the jaded Casino cocktail waitress covered in fake bronze who chain-smokes, boozes and spits pearls at the youngsters.
Curtis nails her role. As the cantankerous stateswoman, she bites into her cigarettes and stares bullets into a past she refuses to talk about. Especially with Eddie, the showrunner played by Dave Bautista.
His role was a weird case. He was miscast, but I liked what he brought to the character. The character would’ve been easy to turn into the hackneyed club owner trope. At best, you’ll get Ben Gazzara in Killing of a Chinese Bookie.
Bautista goes in the opposite direction, portraying Eddie like a dog giving you the innocent (but guilty) eyes. He can’t look up, and any time he’s scolded, he always looks away.
But all tracks lead back to Pamela.
Great work eclipses the hands to whom the little golden statue is gifted. Anderson’s performance walks the thin line between child-like wonder and lashing out at what’s left when the curtain falls on her character.
You can tell she’s done her homework. Her performance blends the right mix of childlike wonder and the refusal to give in to her seeping reality. I was reminded of Ellen Burstyn in Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler, with a touch of Naomi Watts in Mulholland Dr. Anderson has cited Barbara Loden’s Wanda as a massive influence as well.
Is ‘The Last Showgirl’ a great film? The film didn’t receive a single Oscar nomination, but time, as always, will be the judge. I believe 20 years is the right amount of time to pass and to come back to an argument in full view.
Is Pamela Anderson’s performance terrific? I’ll put 10 toes in the ground and say “Yes,” despite her best actress nomination snub.
