POP UP CINEMA BRIGHTON

Let’s start here: Showgirls is, without question, the most fun you can possibly have in a cinema. But it’s also, let’s be honest, a masterpiece.

Directed by the legendary Dutch provocateur Paul Verhoeven — the man behind RoboCop, Total Recall, Starship Troopers, Basic Instinct, and more recently Elle and Benedetta — Verhoeven is no stranger to both criticism and controversy. Upon its 1995 release, Showgirls was almost universally panned by critics, dismissed as vulgar, exploitative, and downright terrible. But once the (frankly puritanical) outrage subsided, something fascinating happened: audiences started to reappraise it. What began as mockery evolved into cult worship. Viewers and critics alike began to suspect what, in hindsight, seems obvious given Verhoeven’s career — Showgirls isn’t just a really bad movie; it’s a really bad movie on purpose.

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Beneath its camp excess — the wooden dialogue, cringe-inducing performances, and spectacularly unsexy sex scenes — lies a razor-sharp satire of the American psyche. Just as RoboCop skewered corporate greed and automation, and Starship Troopers lampooned the U.S. military-industrial complex and it's imperialist desires, Showgirls turns its glittering knives on America’s obsession with commodification, objectification, and that ever-elusive ideal: the American Dream — which, of course, is simply to be rich.

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When Nomi (Elizabeth Berkley — yes, from Saved by the Bell) arrives in Las Vegas with nothing but a dream of stardom, she befriends Molly (Gina Ravera), who works at the “prestigious” Stardust Hotel. Nomi soon finds herself dancing in a seedy strip club, until a chance encounter with the Stardust’s reigning queen, Cristal (Gina Gershon, Bound), and her powerful, sleazy boyfriend Zack (Kyle MacLachlan, Twin Peaks, Blue Velvet), sets her on a path toward fame — and moral freefall.

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As the top review on Letterboxd perfectly puts it: “The people who think this is dumb are the same people who think Inception is smart.”

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A true, (deliberate) “disasterpiece” from one of cinema’s great satirists, Showgirls is both an unhinged, wildly enjoyable ride and a biting critique of American ambition. It’s a film that has to be seen to be believed — and even then, you might not quite believe it. Dismiss it as shallow trash at your peril. Showgirls is as adventurous, invigorating, important, and outrageously entertaining as American cinema gets — and as honest about America as any film ever made.

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