SYNOPSIS: Pamela Anderson hands in the performance of her career in “The Last Showgirl,” a new film now playing in theatres, about sudden endings and new beginnings.
CAST: Pamela Anderson, Jamie Lee Curtis, Dave Bautista, Brenda Song, Kiernan Shipka, Billie Lourd, and Jason Schwartzman. Directed by Gia Coppola.
REVIEW: To paraphrase Ernest Hemingway, Shelly Gardner’s (Anderson) job as one of the lead showgirls in a mid-market revue called Razzle Dazzle came to an end in two ways, gradually, then suddenly. An avatar of old Vegas’s glitter and excess, Shelly’s brand of fantasy burlesque has slowly fallen out of favor, replaced by bottle service, DJs and the hallucinogenic eye candy of The Sphere. She’s a relic of another time, blinded by her costume’s sequins to the realities of the changing world around her. “Las Vegas used to treat us like movie stars,” she says ruefully.
The setting of “The Last Showgirl” is very specific. From the darkened backstage dressing rooms to the sun dappled strip and neon drenched casinos it’s a singular place, but the film’s messages regarding ageism, regret, resilience and reinvention are universal. As an avatar for everyone who feels chewed up and spit out by a job, Shelly discovers, the hard way, that the thing she loved—her job—didn’t love her back.
As Shelly, Anderson plumbs previously unseen depths. Famous for decades, she has never been given the opportunity to sink her teeth into a role like this, one that allows her to play off her reputation as a sex symbol while deftly commenting on the way show business can cruelly abandon those who have given their lives to it. Her presence brings poignancy to the film, but this isn’t simply the stunt casting of a woman who was similarly betrayed by the biz. Anderson delivers the goods, doing a high wire act, playing Shelly as simultaneously steely and vulnerable.
She’s very good in this, and her work is sweetened by the fact that while Anderson may have been a Shelly at a certain point in her career, she is now on the rebound, defying expectations and giving herself a much-deserved new act in life.
Anderson is ably supported by Jamie Lee Curtis as Annette, Shelly’s best friend and former showgirl. Now an overly tanned cocktail waitress, Annette finds herself increasingly pushed aside in favor of younger servers, but she loves the life and is unwilling to walk away. Her performance to Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart” is a showstopper, at once sad yet defiant.
“The Last Showgirl” is a touching story about women tossed aside from jobs they love, but it’s also a universal story of resilience in the face of being let go from a dream job, no matter what the profession.
SYNOPSIS: In the new Yuletide action flick “Red One,” when Santa Claus (code name: Red One) is kidnapped twenty-four hours before Christmas, the North Pole’s Head of Security, an ELF “(Extremely Large and Formidable”) named Callum Drift, played by Dwayne Johnson, teams with Jack O’Malley (Chris Evans), hacker and the world’s best tracker, in a dangerous mission to save Christmas. “There are worse ways to go out than saving Santa Claus,” says Jack.
CAST: Dwayne Johnson, Chris Evans, Lucy Liu, Kiernan Shipka, Bonnie Hunt, Nick Kroll, Kristofer Hivju, Wesley Kimmel, and J. K. Simmons. Directed by Jake Kasdan.
REVIEW: As Santa’s bodyguard Callum Drift, Dwayne Johnson complains that for the first time ever more people are on the naughty list than the nice list. It’s ironic, then, that as the star of “Red One,” the new high-tech, low-reward holiday movie directed by Jake Kasdan, Johnson’s name belongs at the top of that ignominious list.
A Christmas movie with product placement for the whole family, from Hot Wheels to Bulleit Bourbon, it’s a formulaic action film, with generic CGI battles and Johnson in automaton mode.
Johnson is in his wheelhouse. This is a big family action flick, reminiscent of “Disney’s Jungle Cruise” and “Jumanji: The Next Level.” Difference is, both those movies gave Johnson the chance to exercise his comedy chops as well as his muscle-bound physique. “Red One” sees him as a dour, oversized ELF with resting Grinch face who, when he isn’t barking orders is glaring at the film’s baddies. Despite one slightly amusing size-shifting fight scene, it’s a particularly uninspired performance that should get noticed come Razzie Awards time.
Chris Evan fares slightly better. He shrugs off the Captain America persona to play a Jack, a deadbeat dad, drunk and degenerate gambler. “I’m not a scrupulous person,” he sneers. “Ask anybody.”
Of course, they will learn from one another. Jack will discover how to be good from Callum, while proving to Callum that there is good in everyone, even a “Level Four Naughty Lister.” The movie’s messages of nice triumphing over naughty are the usual holiday fare, hammered home with the subtility of fifty-foot Christmas tree.
Add to that a forgettable villain with very little screen time and even less presence when we do see her and you’re left with a film about the magic of Christmas, with very little magic.
“Red One” is a big, $300 million movie, but, as the season has taught us, not all good things come in big packages.
SYNOPSIS: In “Longlegs,” a new psychological horror film starring Maika Munroe and Nicolas Cage, and now playing in theatres, FBI Agent Lee Harker is assigned to a decades-old case of a serial killer who targets entire families. The case turns personal as she uncovers evidence of the occult.
CAST: Maika Monroe, Nicolas Cage, Alicia Witt, Blair Underwood, Kiernan Shipka. Directed by Osgood Perkins (son of “Psycho” star Anthony Perkins and photographer and actress Berry Berenson).
REVIEW More unsettling than scary, “Longlegs” is both thematically and visually dark. There’s not a lot of cracks to let the light in. As the mystery at the heart of this occult thriller unfolds, the action happens mostly at night or in darkened rooms, lending a heavy air of foreboding to every frame of this strange film.
Adding to the film’s otherworldly vibe is Maika Monroe as Lee Harker, the FBI agent assigned to Longlegs’ case. She is Clarice Starling with a carefully defined introspective side; a sixth sense that helps to unravel her cases. “It’s like something tapping me on the shoulder,” he says, “telling me where to look.” Analytical in the extreme, Munroe, in a quiet performance, allows us to see the gears turning in her head as the clues begin to add up. Her process gives Harker a brooding demeanor that perfectly matches the film’s tense, subdued tone.
On the other end of the scale is Cage as the titular serial killer. His unhinged, chaotic work makes his other gonzo performances in movies like “The Wicker Man,” “Face/Off” and “Vampire Kiss” seem positively understated by comparison. Jame Gumb has nothing on this guy. It’s an over-the-top display and individual mileage may vary, but his Tiny Tim inflection, creepy rendition of “Happy Birthday” and repulsive leer will not soon be forgotten.
Despite Cage’s larger-than-life-and-death performance, “Longlegs” values restraint. Other than a quick flash of decomposing bodies, a gallon or two of blood and a handful of jump scares, Perkins is more interested in burrowing into your subconscious with a nightmarish story that unfolds in the dark corners of Harker’s mind. The story’s psychological underpinnings are where the true horror lies. where the discomfort comes from.
By the time the end credits roll, you’ll leave the theatre unnerved, even after they turn on the lights.
SYNOPSIS: Pamela Anderson hands in the performance of her career in “The Last Showgirl,” a new film now playing in theatres, about sudden endings and new beginnings.
