Who is Pamela Anderson? It seems like a strange question to ask about a star who has been active in the realm of popular culture for nearly four decades. However, the very ubiquity of this blonde bombshell has made her something of an enigma, a star who has treated fame as her greatest performance.
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02-22, 2025Of course, everyone can conjure up images of her jogging on the beach in Santa Monica in her iconic red swimsuit, or vaguely recall the sensational rock star scandal. But how much do we truly know about the woman, and the effort that went into crafting such an iconic American image?
In Gia Coppola's film "The Last Showgirl," Anderson plays a Las Vegas showgirl facing the end of an era. The film can be seen as a reflection on the star in our eyes, who recently regained control of her narrative through her 2023 memoir and documentary.
The former "Baywatch" star plays Sherry Gardner, a 57-year-old dancer working in a revue called "Fantasy." The show, like Anderson herself, began in the '80s, but has become a relic in a Disneyfied Las Vegas, overwhelmed by the Sphere and other mega-spectacles.
In the dance troupe, Sherry plays a "mom" role to younger colleagues Jodi (Kiernan Shipka) and Marie-Ann (Brenda Song), and Coppola captures a series of heartwarming backstage scenes with a handheld camera, showcasing their familial intimacy.
Their producer (played by a very enthusiastic Dave Bautista) has been struggling to protect the show, but with dwindling audience numbers, "Fantasy" will soon be canceled, replaced by an erotic version of Cirque du Soleil, which Sherry dismisses as a "dirty circus."
"The Last Showgirl" bears witness to the lives of those on the fringes of large-scale entertainment, where the allure of fame can vanish at the whim of commerce. "Las Vegas used to treat us like movie stars," says Sherry, who once toured internationally and was welcomed by people, but now lives in a dilapidated mid-century house and transforms it into a kitschy "elegant garden."
For an aging showgirl, the choices are few. Jamie Lee Curtis, as a former showgirl, provides an example, slathering on thick spray tan and bartending in a bar in an industrial area, fully showcasing her acting skills.
Coppola, in her third feature film following "Palo Alto" (2013) and the largely overlooked "Mainstream" (2020), is acutely sensitive to the experiences of these women, finding beauty and grace in their struggles and anxieties.
She shares with her famous aunt a perception for space and detail. However, while Sofia has become increasingly introverted, Gia seems free-spirited, allowing her camera to float as freely as the headdress feathers in the Nevada breeze.
Her Las Vegas is a hazy tapestry of cold dawns and empty parking lots, razed construction sites, cramped apartments, and slot machine floors, where the sounds of "Ballroom Day" endlessly echo.
The film is full of hazy lyricism—it feels like half the film is Anderson twirling in diffused sunlight—which may not be to everyone's taste, but Coppola's style is an integral part of what "The Last Showgirl" is about. It hints at a small town buried in the historical-psychological strata, a purgatory for souls destined to wander in its gaudy present. This is "Void Calling!"
Some elements of Kate Gersten's script are less successful, such as the subplot of Sherry's estranged daughter (Billie Lourd), a college student who comes to mock her mother and completes a mandatory hint of redemption.
This is the only discordant note in this arduous, sober study of the essence of glamour. The film wonders, what happens if a person's life is dedicated to an art form that is no longer popular—whether it's dancing in Las Vegas or posing for "Playboy"? In this case, the performer's livelihood is their aging body.
The weight of Anderson's own career hangs on a moment when Sherry auditions for the producer of a cruel and expedient—but equally misogynistic—new burlesque circus, played by an almost unrecognizable Jason Schwartzman. It is here that the star's famously feathery voice finally cracks, and the pain of a lifetime of objectification erupts in a scream.
No one respects Sherry's artistic talent, which can be interpreted as an analogy to Anderson's life, that the art of playing a vibrant, sexy pin-up girl rarely gets the recognition it deserves—a plight that has plagued almost every screen blonde, from Marilyn to today.
Sherry not only understands the appeal of a show that gives the audience "boobs, rhinestones, and joy," as she exclaims at one point, but also understands its power and sense of belonging—an equivalent to being seen in the spotlight.
By showcasing the labor, talent, and personal sacrifices behind the image, "The Last Showgirl" reveals an Anderson we've never really encountered—the actor and artist behind the icon.
"This is the beginning of my career," she told Us Weekly about her performance. A star is reborn. "The Last Showgirl" is now in theaters.
