On June 27th 2015 Elizabeth Berkeley received a standing ovation during her introduction to a screening of Showgirls. She describes the “magical full-circle moment” of experiencing “the sweetness of a screening with a crowd that embraced it”, which infamously was not the case upon the release of Showgirls in 1995. This feels like a cathartic moment in Berkeley’s own hero’s journey, finally recognised for her tour-de-force performance that undoubtedly makes the film what it is, however subjective that may be.
One cannot help but recognise the similarities between Berkeley’s journey with Showgirls and her character, Nomi, the protagonist of the film. In simple terms, she arrives, inexperienced, but ready to thrive in an industry with a history of exploiting women and their bodies. Then, she places faith in the guidance of men with superior industry knowledge, only to be exposed to the sheer magnitude of vitriol such industry is prepared to show to women.
Considering this, what makes Showgirls an endlessly fascinating piece of film history is the way in which, in both text and para-text, it exposes how we engage with the commodification of sexuality. Living up to its position as the most expensive NC-17 film ever made, Showgirls is flashy and full of sex. On a visual level, the costumes of the dancers are stunning, their make-up mesmerising, and the movement of the performers, particularly Berkeley, is intentionally sharp and exaggerated, as is the depiction of a 1990s Las Vegas oozing poor taste.
Surface-level critical responses to the film by contemporaries remarked on an apparent attempt and failure on the part of Paul Verhoeven to create an effective erotic drama. Even later revisionist analyses reduce Showgirls to merely worthy of a slot on your average ‘Top 10 so-bad-its-good Films’ list. I would argue that the depiction of sexuality in Showgirls is not something meant to be quintessentially ‘sexy’. Furthermore, coming off the release of a straight erotic thriller such as Basic Instinct, critics were unprepared to see such an asexual depiction of sex, misconstruing it as a failed attempt at hyper-eroticism. Such asexuality is overtly demonstrated in THAT pool scene between Berkeley and co-star Kyle McLachlan. The scene, in all its excessiveness, is remarkably asexual and that is its point. Within the context of the film this scene demonstrates how in an environment where sexuality is everywhere, and discussed and consumed transactionally the thing which makes the act itself erotic: intimacy, is lost. Thus, men and women are reduced to sellers, consumers and objects.
The absence of eroticism contrasted against the abundance of commodified sexuality throughout Showgirls solidifies this as central theme of the film, one which is overlooked in discussions of the film even in revisionist circles. This reading of sexuality in Showgirls would impossible without the talent of Elizabeth Berkeley paired with Paul Verhoeven’s vision and I’m happy she’s since been able to find joy in her work on the film.
“Elizabeth Berkley as Nomi Malone in ‘Showgirls’” by feastoffun.com is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.