‘You Don’t Nomi’ Provides a Stimulating Critical Rehabilitation of ‘Showgirls’
There are the classics and then there are the derided classics, some which are lucky enough to gain cult status and revised appreciation. “You Don’t Nomi” is not just a documentary about a bad movie turned underground hit, but a fascinating work of cultural criticism. The subject at hand is the infamous 1995 box office and critical flop “Showgirls.” With engaging insights it reflects on the film’s wild aesthetic, and digs deep into its trashy pop heart to discover why it’s been given merit by scholars and poets. It doesn’t matter whether the viewer thinks “Showgirls” is good or bad, its aim is to look at a work of art from different angles.
Director Jeffrey McHale gathers together an assortment of critics and unique participants to discuss a film that has only grown in both recognition and intense debate. Leading the analysis over a collage of scenes taken from “Showgirls” and other films and media related to the movie is critic Adam Nayman, who has attempted to recover the film with his book “It Doesn’t Suck: Showgirls.” Something still manages to grab old and fresh fans in the movie’s story of runaway Nomi (Elizabeth Berkley), a dancer who hitchhikes to Las Vegas, becomes a stripper and gets sucked into the depraved showbiz world of established star Cristal Connors (Gina Gershon) and snaky showrunner Zack (Kyle MacLachlan).
Was “Showgirls” originally meant to be something deeper and greater? Its main creators were director Paul Verhoeven, a Dutch provocateur who had made several hits including “Robocop,” “Total Recall” and the saucy noir “Basic Instinct,” and colorful screenwriter Joe Eszterhas, writer of the latter and by 1995 the priciest scribe in Hollywood. Nayman, along with critics Susan Wloszczyna and Barbara Shulgasser-Parker among others, provide differing yet insightful breakdowns of what Verhoeven and Eszterhas might have intended with “Showgirls” and what it turned out to be. “You Don’t Nomi” thus becomes more than a recap of a notorious movie. For example Nayman traces the bombastic style of the film’s Las Vegas world and dance sequences to technicolor Hollywood. Like all good criticism, moments bring a new dimension to familiar sequences. One has to admit it doesn’t seem so out of place to compare one of the movie’s showgirl dance numbers to the decadent worshipping of the gold idol scene from “The Ten Commandments.” By tracing the style and themes of “Showgirls” back to Verhoeven’s earlier Dutch cinema, which from the beginning was obsessed with sex and violence, the critics also provide a lesson in the very way filmmakers develop a particular voice. Verhoeven is undoubtedly a master stylist and “Showgirls” in its cinematography remains very slick. Eszterhas’s screenplays meanwhile, have a constant fixation with female stereotypes, down to women in his scripts constantly obsessing over their nails.
The debate rages around what this aesthetic even means. Strip club sequences are famously exaggerated, with Elizabeth Berkley pulling off moves that inspired Roger Ebert to write at the time, “If all lap-dancers get as carried away as Nomi does, I’ll bet they’re constantly seeing a chiropractor about their backs.” Some of the commentators may suggest it’s all wondrous satire, meant to evoke the American dream and how it has little connection to reality. Another critic will conclude the movie is just exploitative trash, directed by a filmmaker with issues and written by someone using classic misogyny to make quick bucks. By allowing all these observations to fill the narration, McHale involves the viewer in a real discussion about the film’s merits and flaws. Sections turn into wider discussions about the representation of sexuality and how moments perceived as feminist or anti-racist are actually wrong-headed. When Nomi infiltrates the mansion of a singer who raped her best friend at a party, proceeding to roundhouse kick and demolish him, is it actual feminism or a misogynist fantasy? Wloszczyna brilliantly points out how the film’s excessive topless scenes think they’re being edgy by throwing breasts around every frame, but over-do it and lose any possible effect. All of the movie’s black characters are also caught in that strange vortex of being portrayed as angelic and flawless. It is a classic case of unintentional racism resulting out of poseur inclusiveness.
Fans of newcomers to “Showgirls” will still be able to bask in meticulous analysis of specific scenes, like the well-known lunch between Nomi and Cristal where they discuss a fondness for dog food. There’s even a jarring continuity error in the editing you might have missed. That famous scene where Nomi and Zack have ridiculously wild pool sex is also delved into with surprisingly entertaining insight. Vintage news clips take us back to when the film first opened as the biggest production to carry the dreaded NC-17 rating, but received both critical and popular scorn. There is some dark hilarity when commentators look back at a companion picture book published for the movie, where Verhoeven and Eszterhas get into pretentious grandstanding about their film’s great aims. Today both have tried to claim it was always meant to be an exaggerated satire, but it feels like attempts at saving face. One of the documentary’s most valid points made by Nayman, is that “Showgirls” did not set out to be campy on purpose, it truly took itself seriously, which is what enhances its appeal as genuine cult trash on par with films like “Mommie Dearest.” Geeks who make B-movies on purpose miss the point. They are so self-conscious that their work is simply bad without any deeper resonance.
A story that seems to run as an undercurrent is that of actor Elizabeth Berkley, who gained fame as one of the high school characters in the hit show “Saved by the Bell,” but when she attempted to expand into film with “Showgirls,” it all fell apart. Blacklisted and turned into a virtual pariah, Berkley has been relegated to the Reality TV circuit. A genuine sense of empathy bubbles up with a recent clip of her attending a Cinespia revival screening of “Showgirls” in L.A., where she almost seems moved to tears by the audience’s rapturous ovation. If “Showgirls” is a bad movie it still features a rare performance where an actor gives their all. The choreography in the strip club scenes alone rivals anything in “Chicago.” It was Berkley’s bad luck that all that effort went into a vapid and odd film. Legendary status can arrive in so many different ways.
Even more intriguing is the afterlife “Showgirls” has with its core of fans. We meet Jeffery Conway, a poet inspired to write “Showgirls: The Movie in Sestinas,” a tribute in verse to the movie and Peaches Christ, who hosts popular drag events for movies with an enormously popular screening event for “Showgirls.” You can’t help but admire April Kidwell, an actor who suffered a terrible trauma and has found much self-discovery by doing the one-woman show, “I, Nomi,” inspired by Berkeley’s character. She also starred in “Showgirls! The Musical!” Say what you will about this film, but there must be something to it with this kind of impact.
“You Don’t Nomi” is about “Showgirls,” and on that premise alone it is worth viewing for any big film buff. But it is also a richer critical take on the very cultural impact of infamous art. Even a bad movie can mean many different things to those who discover it. For some this romp about Las Vegas divas and hitchhiking runaways represents the American Dream in all its lurid madness, for others it is admirable for its sheer boldness, and for many it remains infamous ‘90s movie trash. The fun of this documentary is how it lets all these angles fight it out. Maybe 20 years from now someone will make the same kind of documentary about “Cats.”
