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It’s initially tempting to dismiss the picture, like its central character with her breathy, little-girl voice, as superficial. But there’s a bruising cumulative power to this melancholy little paean to an ending era. And Anderson, whose character is left questioning not just what the future holds, but also the costly choices that shaped her past, is excellent, delivering a performance that has single-handedly rewritten the way she is viewed as an actor.

Whatever depth The Last Showgirl has also comes from the blurred lines between character and actor but – ironically, given that Shelly’s business is nudity – neither is ever truly exposed. And so we get a comeback vehicle begging to be dubbed ‘revelatory’ which actually reveals little we didn’t know, or suspect, about the self-preservation instincts of Pamela Anderson.

Pamela Anderson... gives a wonderful, delicate performance as a woman eaten up by the superficial pressures of showbiz... There is a lot to garner from Anderson’s performance as a woman who has spent her life as the vessel of other people’s lust and projection; that is the main attraction of The Last Showgirl. But without the narrative scaffolding or depth to surround her character, Coppola’s film can often feel like a message in search of a movie.

Pamela Anderson excels as an over-the-hill Vegas showgirl seeing out her notice period in this low-key, vibey backstage drama from Gia Coppola.

It doesn’t feel quite right to say The Last Showgirl is Anderson’s comeback role. But it does feel significant – a way to memorialise, on film, the kind of career she’s wanted to shape for herself, by playing a character who’s less an echo of herself than an echo of what she’s had to fight against.

Warm and generous performances carry this good-natured movie from director Gia Coppola; it’s actually the sort of approachable, actor-led drama for grownups that pundits complain Hollywood doesn’t produce any more.

While The Last Showgirl is uneven at times, with several promising supporting characters left underexplored due to its brisk pacing, its exploration of identity and ambition feels strikingly fresh. Coppola’s direction shines through in the intimate moments and the emotional weight of transitions amidst the glitz and chaos backstage. By allowing Shelley to mourn her dreams and artistic aspirations rather than her fading youth and beauty, the film provides a refreshing perspective on female ageing...

The former Baywatch star [Pamela Anderson] gives a quite literally glittering comeback performance in Gia Coppola’s latest, The Last Showgirl, a dreamy, understated ode to the underdogs of Las Vegas. After Mainstream and Palo Alto, Coppola jettisons her usual wryly humorous tone in favour of a more pensive mood. But the drama falls slightly short of being the heavy hitter it hopes to be.

Despite the spunk of Curtis’s performance (a spontaneous midday dance in the middle of a hectic casino to Total Eclipse of the Heart is my favourite kind of fever dream), the rest of the cast can't help elevate the film, resulting in what feels like a disconnected rich kid’s fantasy of what kooky, poor people with crushed dreams must be like.

Anderson brings her own vulnerability, exuberance and glamour to a scantily written role. As Shelly, she is bubbly and girlish, her optimism occasionally punctured by Anderson’s sharp awareness of her character’s flaws. The film is a vehicle for the actress’s specific gifts (and earned Anderson a Golden Globe nomination), but as written, the role is clichéd.

The casting of Anderson as Shelley feels almost kismet. One of the most notable sex symbols of our time, Anderson has recently undergone a cultural renaissance... Both Anderson and Shelley refuse to be shamed for embodying feminine sexuality.

The Last Showgirl may begin – as its ever-romantic heroine exclaims – with a shiny celebration of ‘breasts and rhinestones and joy!’ But in Gia Coppola’s (Palo Alto) sensitive telling, the glitter swiftly disperses to reveal an elegiac meditation on memory and age, femininity and beauty.