The Last Showgirl

There’s been a lot of press about the new Pamela Anderson film, one in which she displays a genuine talent for performance rather than just her physical attributes. Thanks to yesterday’s Lunar New Year holiday from school, I finally had an opportunity to catch the movie at its sole late afternoon showing at my neighborhood theater.

After posting an invite to meet me at the Spectrum Theater on social media, I was joined by four friends with whom I share different (work/yoga/soccer/longterm mutual friends) life orbits. Of course, it being Albany, there were some overlaps in acquaintanceship which made our time together easy and interesting.

The Last Showgirl was so much more than the story of a Las Vegas show drawing to its close after a decades long run. It was about women and the expectations of motherhood, opportunities and, ultimately, choices made and, sometimes, regretted. With only a single named male character in the movie, it was a female centric film, even down to the very soundtrack with songs by Pat Benatar and Bonnie Tyler.

I wasn’t prepared for my response to the movie. Often I find myself irritated by stories about women who fail to achieve their life’s goals because of restrictions placed upon them by a patriarchal society. This movie, though, was different for me. Pamela Anderson’s Shelly never begrudged her lack of success in life, because she personally felt she had realized the peaks of her showgirl profession. She had razzle dazzled her way around the world and seemingly had no regrets about her chosen profession.

The heartbreak of the movie, as I experienced it, was the realization that Shelly truly only had one card she knew how to play – that of her beauty and sex appeal. When those advantages began to fade, she had nothing to fall back on.

As the most senior showgirl in the ensemble, she was conflicted about her veteran status, needing assistance to manage the rapid costume changes, yet resisting the role of cast mother to the other younger dancers. She lacked willingness to acknowledge her age in any fashion.

The movie ultimately was about choosing one’s path through life and living with the consequences. The mother-daughter dynamic was on full display and, interestingly, my Wednesday companions were all Girl Moms. While I don’t have that personal experience, I am, of course, a daughter and a mother and found many of the scenes to be quite stimulating emotionally.

As Shelly, asserted, she did her best. She chose the job she loved and paid the price for it – a relationship with her own daughter. The film ends on an optimistic note that suggested that maybe, even when we make decisions which seem to be unalterable and permanent, there remains an opportunity to change course. I left the theater feeling lighter than when I had arrived.

I’d be remiss in omitting mention of the spectacular performance turned in by Jamie Lee Curtis. Her character, Annette, is best friends with Shelly, and Curtis was absolutely breathtaking in her role as senior cocktail waitress with a propensity for both gambling and drinking far too much. The scene of her dancing to “Total Eclipse of the Heart” will stay with me for a very long time.

We followed the film by heading to the nearby Delaware for wine and nosh, extending our outing by a couple of hours while we ate and took advantage of their killer (all wines available by the glass on their list are featured at an across the board $9 per glass) Wednesday wine special.

I am really hoping that this thoroughly enjoyable evening becomes one which is repeated on a monthly or so basis. Our Last Showgirl outing just might become the very first meeting of the Women’s Wednesday Watch & Wine Society.