Viking Night: Showgirls

By Bruce Hall

April 19, 2016

You can't see her!

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The sympathetic stranger is a local named Molly (Gina Ravera), who generously buys Nomi dinner, and offers to put her up until she finds a job. Long story short, they become best friends. Nomi finds work as a stripper, because Vegas. Molly has a slightly better gig, making costumes for a show called “Goddess” at the (now demolished) Stardust Resort. That comes with some perks, like scoring your stripper friend backstage passes and getting to meet the Goddess herself, Cristal Connors (Gina Gershon). Nomi and Cristal don't exactly hit it off, but for some reason, Cristal becomes intrigued with Molly's strange new emotionally unstable friend.

What happens next is hard to explain, because the plot begins unravelling at an exponential rate early in the second act: Nomi and Molly go to a club, where Nomi flings herself around the dance floor like she's being electrocuted. This draws the attention of a bouncer named James (Glen Plummer), who becomes obsessed with her and starts following her around. Later, Cristal shows up at the club where Nomi works and orders a lap dance for her boyfriend Zack (Kyle MacLachlan), during which he comes to orgasm as Nomi twitches and spasms like a palsy victim.

Then, because...something...something stuff that happens, Nomi ends up working as a backup dancer for Cristal at the Stardust. Can you see where this is going?




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Showgirls is a somewhat fractured attempt to give Las Vegas the “A Star is Born” treatment, with Nomi the young protege and Cristal the aging star. What makes it entertaining is that Cristal simply seems to be attracted to Nomi, so on the one hand she does what she can to push the young dancer's career forward, while on the other making sure to keep the youngster under her sadistic heel. What makes it freaky is Elizabeth Berkley's acting, and the small matter of the plot going completely off the rails. The battle of wills between Nomi and Cristal forms the meat of the second act and it's fantastically diabolical, potboiler stuff. There are catfights, lavish, Vegas quality stage shows, sleazy producers, sex, lies, deceit, betrayal, drugs…

For just a little while, Showgirls is hilarious, trashy fun - and in a way that should have made it a smash. But here's the problem - this is clearly meant to be an obnoxious satire of the Vegas show scene. But it has such an uneven tone that it's difficult to tell what you're supposed to take seriously and what you aren't. The look and feel of the shows are authentic (right down to the cheesy synth pop music that often accompanies Vegas productions), and the way the girls play off each other backstage has a realistic component to it. But there is very little to indicate to the audience that what they're seeing is meant to be heightened or exaggerated. The signposts that accompany say, a Coen Brothers film - signifying that you are watching a satire - are just not present here.

It's blistering mockery packaged as a drama, and the result feels off putting more often than not. But sadly, the most dispiriting thing about Showgirls is Berkley herself. As a protagonist she leaves little to be desired - she's annoying, immature, vengeful and petty - and she seems to have a lot of trouble controlling her arms and legs. Verhoeven famously requested that she portray the character this way, and being a good sport, Berkley complied. I assume it was meant to be funny, but instead it completely disrupts the tone of the movie. The only comparison I can think of would be having Daffy Duck sprint onscreen with a seltzer bottle every time there's a quiet moment.


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