It has been 30 years since the initial release, and Showgirls continues to court divisive takes.
Showgirls was famously maligned upon its release in 1995. The film is one of many cautionary tales about fame, examining the feminine pursuit of perfection in the same vein as Perfect Blue, Black Swan, or The Substance. The marked difference is that ‘Showgirls’ is not a horror film. Director Paul Verhoeven is certainly a provocateur, but Showgirls did not titillate as intended. Its star, Elizabeth Berkley, known up to that point as a character on the wholesome Saved by the Bell, received the public lashing our culture seems to reserve exclusively for women.
All lambasted the failed eroticism of the film. Still, critic Roger Ebert perhaps came the closest to the heart of the matter in his review.
“It contains no true eroticism, however, and that’s why I think it reflects a grounding in sexual fantasy: Eroticism requires a mental connection between two people, while masturbation requires only the other person’s image.” Verhoeven had inadvertently captured something honest: the horror of performative female sexuality for the male gaze.
Berkley’s performance as aspiring showgirl Nomi Malone gives way to a lot of criticism. The main focus usually on its inherent camp factor or discounting it entirely as ridiculous. Indeed, Berkley’s performance isn’t subtle, but there is a captivating earnestness that humanizes a character written by a man seemingly unfamiliar with the behavior of actual women.
With profit comes public shame in Showgirls.
Ebert had this to say about screenwriter Joe Eszterhas: “His insights into human nature come from pulp fiction, and a fear of women palpitates in all his best work (they’ll kill you – but if you’re lucky, they’ll have sex with you first, and maybe put on a lesbo show).” We first meet Nomi as she hitchhikes into Las Vegas, brandishing a switchblade at the man who picks her up with a practiced flourish. He still robs her and leaves her on the streets of Vegas with nothing. This is a common theme in Showgirls: there is no escape from vulnerability as a woman, and any expression of agency will be punished.
The exaggerated nature of Nomi traces back to the fact that she is actually Polly Ann Costello. “Nomi Malone” is one of her many identities since running away from a foster home at fifteen. There is an inherently Marilyn Monroe-esque quality to a woman reinventing herself as a public figure, shedding an unglamorous past in pursuit of stardom. Like Monroe, Nomi’s relationships with men are fraught with tension stemming from this manufactured persona. Despite every character in the film participating in a business that profits from women’s bodies, Nomi continuously faces shame for being a sex worker.
James (Glenn Plummer), a choreographer, is the first person to recognize Nomi’s talent as a dancer. He acts as a sort of mentor figure, but Nomi’s rejection of his advances and his repeated shaming of her sours their relationship. Zack (Kyle MacLachlan), the entertainment director at the Stardust Casino, appears to be an ally to Nomi. However, he reveals himself to be the personification of industry exploitation. There are no safe men in this film, and every relationship between men and women is transactional at best. In Showgirls, heterosexual relationships are as artificial as acrylic nails or synthetic wigs.
A cult-classic repurposed.
Nomi’s relationships with women are easily the most interesting in the film. Most notable is her friendship with Molly (Gina Ravera) and sexually charged rivalry with Cristal (Gina Gershon). Molly acts as a sort of moral compass, and their bond is proof that Nomi is capable of genuine love. Unfortunately, she fulfills the role of the token black friend. Molly exists to support Nomi, suffering brutally in the only scene in the film that goes too far in the name of exploitation.
Nomi’s redemption comes in the form of her transformation into an avenging angel for Molly and reconciliation with Cristal, the former star of the show at the Stardust, with whom Nomi has spent the entire film competing. The two share a kiss, the culmination of a dynamic tinged with queerness that the film never fully explores. Verhoeven and Eszterhas show little interest in exploring sexuality beyond aesthetics, so their fetishization of female queerness is unsurprising. Still, it is significant that the closest Nomi comes to true intimacy is with the women in her life.
Showgirls has long been considered a cult classic. Since its release, it has been repurposed primarily by the LGBTQ+ community and women, serving as a sort of sacred text for camp. You can see echoes of the elaborate hair and makeup in the film in the critically acclaimed HBO show Euphoria, and Nomi’s outfits appear on Tumblr blogs and Pinterest boards. The film endures, and its resonance isn’t solely due to a historic mispronunciation of Versace as “Ver-sayce.” The uncanny nature of the eroticism in the film appeals to audiences who understand what it means to have a specific brand of sexuality projected onto them. They understand sex as performance.
Showgirls is streaming now on HBO.
