How The Last Showgirl illustrates the ultimate female paradox

The act marked a shift for Anderson, who is best known for being a ‘90s sex symbol after her role as CJ Parker in Baywatch – and a face that became synonymous with red swimsuits. And just as any beautiful woman in the ‘90s, Anderson has long been scrutinised by the public eye, following her whirlwind marriages and a leaked sex tape that was stolen from her.

It was only in 2022 that the most controversial and traumatic period of her life was dramatised for the Disney Plus series Pam & Tommy by a group of predominantly male producers who never even asked her if it was OK.

Despite Anderson’s newfound approach to beauty, though, some still remain sceptical. “I’m not buying it,” I read recently in a long-form article, dismissing Anderson’s no-make-up look as nothing more than a publicity stunt for the cameras. “What’s so ‘ethereal’ about not wearing any make-up?”

Her critics argue that, because of her past as a Playboy model and her decision to have a boob job, Anderson is somehow disqualified from presenting a look she believes liberates her.

Anderson cannot win. No matter what she does, there will always be someone ready to criticise her. And that’s the problem. If we want to support women, we must support all women, and that includes the ones with pretty faces and fake boobs. Women are allowed to choose the identity they want – whether you like it or not. “She’s not the sort of woman I want to look up to.” Guess what? She didn’t ask you to.

It appears this idea is mirrored in Anderson’s latest film The Last Showgirl, in which Shelly, a middle-aged Las Vegas showgirl (played by the star in truly heartbreaking form – a form that was snubbed by the Oscars, might I add), who must face a harsh reality when she learns that her beloved revue Le Razzle Dazzle is scheduled to close after 30 years.

As the film unfolds, we begin to understand that Shelly has a strained relationship with her daughter Hannah (Billie Lourd), mostly because Shelly struggled to balance the career she adores with single motherhood. Hannah’s father, Eddie – the producer of Le Razzle Dazzle – has, meanwhile, never been present in her life, despite knowing of her existence and seeing his daughter’s mother work herself to death almost every day.

Shelly has spent the majority of Hannah’s life trying to balance the career she loves with the daughter she adores, and, in Hannah’s eyes, her career always came first. And now, such career is faltering, because Shelly is getting older. “You were obviously hired at Le Razzle Dazzle because you were beautiful and young a long time ago,” a director coldly informs her during an audition.

The Last Showgirl is a staunch reminder of the fact that women cannot have it all – a family, a career. It’s the ultimate female paradox. In the same way to the actress who plays her, Shelly can do no right to society. If she’s a dedicated mother, she must sacrifice her career, but if she focuses on her career, she sacrifices being the mother her daughter needs. And now, she has lost both. Her daughter resents her, and her career has been lost because she, no longer, is considered young and beautiful.

But while The Last Showgirl may paint a sobering picture of womanhood, the fact the story is even being told by a 57-year-old woman carries significant weight. In fact, middle-aged women are increasingly reclaiming the spotlight, what with Nicole Kidman exploring her sexuality in Babygirl, Demi Moore proving her worth in The Substance and Renée Zellweger discovering new romance as a 52-year-old mother of two in the latest Bridget Jones film.

After years of being a supporting character, the wife or the daughter or the mother of a much younger protagonist (unless they're a man, of course, who are almost always allowed to be older), women above 50 are re-entering spaces where they were previously called “old” and “ugly”.

“But we still have a long way to go. All of these women are white and straight. They aren’t representative of us all,” yes, and of course there should be further room to tell every woman’s story. There is still a lot of work to be done in crafting a space for women who haven’t had it as ‘easy’ as Pam – but a win’s a win, for now, and there is no space to put one woman down to lift another up.

“I’m beautiful. I’m 57, and I’m beautiful, you son of a b***h,” proclaims Shelly in the final act of The Last Showgirl, and this International Women’s Day, it’s about time we tell her she’s right.

The Last Showgirl is available to watch in cinemas.

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