There is an aching, inevitable kind of sadness that runs just below the surface of The Last Showgirl. It’s a film that raises plenty of questions and gives its audience the suggestion of a few answers, too. Is a career in the arts ever really worth the trouble? (Answer: not always.) Can a woman ever work in the entertainment industry without being exploited and then tossed aside? (Answer: not often.) Are the sacrifices we make for our passions worth it? (Answer: no, but what other choice do we have?)

These are questions and answers that are all too familiar to the film’s star. Widely touted as the big acting comeback of Pamela Anderson, the thoughtful indie film by Gia Coppola (niece of Sofia and granddaughter of Francis Ford) revolves around Shelly, an older Las Vegas showgirl reflecting on her thankless career in the entertainment industry.

Shelly has worked at the same Las Vegas revue for 30 years. Once a glitzy, glamorous staple of Las Vegas, the revue has faded into a sleazy, grimy relic of a distant version of the city. When Shelly learns that the revue will be shutting its doors for good, she is forced to face up to reality: the revue has been her life’s work, but has it been worth it? A few strained, frustrated interactions with her estranged adult daughter, Hannah (Billie Lourd), make it clear that she certainly doesn’t think so. Similarly, Shelly’s castmates aren’t too sad to see it go; to them, it was just a job – and not a great one at that. Finally, a painfully embarrassing audition for another local dance show indicates that the rest of the professional world is equally dismissive of Shelly.

Of course, the parallels between Anderson and her character are impossible to ignore. Like Shelly, Anderson began her career as a sex symbol. Like Shelly, she fostered a passion that went entirely unappreciated. And like Shelly, she was dismissed as nothing more than a pretty object – briefly celebrated and then deemed obsolete. She plays her with a quiet, heartbreaking soulfulness that crescendos in an emotional, frustrated release.

Jamie Lee Curtis also gives a powerful, punchy performance as Shelly’s friend, Annette, an ex-showgirl who has already been through the painful process of disillusionment and is now working as a cocktail server at a casino. In one bizarre sequence, she does a deeply committed dance to Total Eclipse Of The Heart – it’s both embarrassingly uncomfortable and, somehow, poetically poignant.

Coppola uses 16mm film to bring a raw, grainy quality to Las Vegas: there is no real sparkle or glamour left – apart, perhaps, from what remains in Shelly’s fond memories of a happier, more hopeful past. Ultimately, the film is sort of a second-coming-of-age story: a confronting, heartbreaking character study of a woman who dedicated her life to a passion that no one else ever really saw much value in.

The Last Showgirl has nationwide previews on 10 February, followed by a full cinema release on 28 February.

Images: Roadside Attractions