The Last Showgirl: Movie Review 

Cast: Pamela Anderson, Jamie Lee Curtis, Billie Lourd, Kiernan Shipka, Brenda Song, Dave Bautista
Director: Gia Coppola

While Pamela Anderson has been lauded for her role as Shelly in Gia Coppola's The Last Showgirl, don't come to the film expecting it to prove to be a fully cathartic experience that ends on a high.

In fact, this tale of a 57-year-old showgirl facing the end of her days on stage in a Las Vegas revue she's called home for more than three decades feels more like an initial exercise in delusion - even if it ends with an homage to Mia Goth's final moments in Pearl.

But what it is is an ode to ageing in the spotlight, to carrying on regardless toward the end and to being subjected to the indignities of a world that's moved on from talent, rather than endlessly embracing it.

From Shelly's younger colleagues that see her more as a mum than a stage equal at Le Razzle Dazzle to a sweet relationship that's got depth between her and Bautista's tender stage director Kenny via a friendship with a falling out of grace cocktail waitress Annette (an incredibly over-tanned Curtis), this is a story that ebbs and flows with lives lived, of moments gained and lost - and consequently rises as something more gut-wrenching than urgently dramatic.

As Coppola peppers the frame with plenty of close-ups and out of focus backgrounds, of fallen Vegas vistas, she builds a portrait of a city struggling with its own relevance, moods which are transposed onto those who live there.

If most of this is visually wildly successful, perhaps the less successful part of The Last Showgirl lies with Shelly's re-connection with her daughter and her subsequent anger at how she chose stage life over family moments. There are plenty of petulant outbursts that service the script's need for drama, rather than the character's desire for propulsion. 

It's a definitive point of difference that clouds a lot of what The Last Showgirl has to offer - and while it doesn't fully detract from the film's mood, its narrative convenience serves less purpose than perhaps it should.

At the core of it all is Anderson - ranging from squeaky edged delivery to more wistfully subtle moments, she delivers an intriguing performance, rather than a powerhouse one. It's obvious to see why it's polarised some critics and galvanised others. 

But there are powerful moments - such as Shelly ranting at a director looking for younger talent, or delivering a blustering speech in a restaurant about age and being seen. This is a movie that has a message and isn't afraid to deliver it - but in parts, putting its foot on the gas and developing its characters could have helped a little more.