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The thing about Gia Coppola's "The Last Showgirl" is that we have seen this story before. Its themes and story beats of a person aging out of a profession have been explored, but it's Coppola's sensitive and empathetic touch that makes "The Last Showgirl" such a wonderful movie with an aching heart.

In a year where big movies have disappointed and highly, personally anticipated movies have been greeted with an apathetic shrug, it's refreshing that a small, 85-minute film could be so emotionally surprising while treading familiar territory.

Pamela Anderson stars as Shelly, a 50-something showgirl who has been dancing at the Razzle Dazzle in Las Vegas since the late 1980s. She's a maternal figure of sorts to the younger dancers Jodie (Kiernan Shipka) and Mary-Anne (Brenda Song), who often look to her for advice. Shelly can't always relate to the younger dancers, but she finds comfort in Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis), an aging cocktail waitress who is at a similar crossroad in her life.

Eddie (Dave Bautista), the show's stage manager, informs the dancers that the show is closing after 30 years. Attendance has been down and the writing has been on the wall, but the news leaves Shelly dizzied nonetheless. The Razzle Dazzle is all she has known most of her adult life, which has caused her to have a strained relationship with her daughter Hannah (Billie Lourd).

It's one of the great surprises of the year to see Anderson in such a substantial role. Her breathy and occasionally jittery delivery conjures the spirit of a 1940s starlet and allows Anderson a chance to be taken seriously. In return, she gives one of the best performances of the year. The entire ensemble works well together as a found family, but this is Anderson's film. She takes on the role of Shelly like she may never be given the opportunity to lead a film ever again. Hopefully, enough people will see "The Last Showgirl" and are able to see what Anderson can do.

There have been plenty of movies like "The Last Showgirl," but Coppola transcends familiarity because of how deeply she cares about Shelly - and Anderson. There's not an ounce of judgment for Shelly, who always did her best even when she didn't do the perceived right thing. The movie could have looked down on her for picking her career over being an active mother, but to Shelly she was trying to provide for her daughter.

The movie was shot on 16mm film, which gives it a textured look and style. A lot of the movie is shot in close-up by cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw, which has proven to be divisive in some reviews and reactions to the movie. It creates an intimacy, especially when Coppola intersperses scenes of Shelly walking down The Strip and the hot Nevada sun beams through the camera with the glitzy lights in the backdrop. It's easy to say it feels like a dream, but for Shelly The Strip is littered with the ghosts of her past. A walk down The Strip is like flipping through a dusty photo album of her life; some memories bring a smile to her face, but others tend to be painful.

An air of melancholy hangs over the entire movie, but "The Last Showgirl" isn't about Shelly wallowing in her pity. She's not sure what her next move is, but her show closing doesn't stop her from trying to find the next gig in the only profession she has ever known. Anderson's performance is so good because she clearly understands Shelly - and Shelly clearly understands Anderson.

"The Last Showgirl" begins its Oscar-qualifying run on December 13 and will expand wide in January 2025.