The Last Showgirl

More gritty than glamorous, The Last Showgirl is a bittersweet elegy for a bygone era of Las Vegas entertainment and the people it left behind.

Providing a dream comeback vehicle for Pamela Anderson, this slight yet compassionate drama from director Gia Coppola (Mainstream) examines life’s transitions through the type of character usually dismissed or relegated to the margins.

In her first starring role in at least a decade, Anderson plays Shelly, who has been part of the same Vegas revue for three decades, now dancing alongside up-and-comers half her age.

She’s more comfortable on stage in a skimpy costume in front of a gawking audience than she is in the checkout line and the supermarket. “It’s night after night feeling seen, feeling powerful, and I can’t imagine my life without it,” she explains.

Shelly has been a steady performer even into her 50s, with no plans to retire her feathers and sequins. But that decision is made on her behalf when Shelly’s friend and stage manager (Dave Bautista) delivers the news that the venue wants to modernize its entertainment.

The show’s impending closure leaves everyone involved at a personal and professional crossroads and threatens the bond in Shelly’s surrogate family including a feisty longtime cocktail waitress (Jamie Lee Curtis) and a young protégé (Kiernan Shipka).

What’s next for Shelly? An attempt to reconcile with her estranged daughter (Billie Lourd) is a start, although her attempts to audition for another show trigger bitterness about a business that values youth and sex appeal over talent and experience.

Anderson deconstructs her starlet image with a role that keenly leverages her limited emotional range and earns sympathy as Shelly contemplates an uncertain future.

Bautista and Curtis each are almost unrecognizable, with the latter providing a highlight during a montage in which she gyrates in front of ambivalent onlookers to “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

The character-driven screenplay lacks consistent narrative momentum and its broader observations about aging and beauty aren’t especially deep or profound.

However, The Last Showgirl is more compelling in its quieter, more intimate moments involving Anderson, whose embodiment of Shelly’s awkwardness and vulnerability makes the underlying journey to empowerment resonate that much more strongly.

Rated R, 88 minutes.