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| Version 1 | Version 2 |
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| My guilty pleasure: Showgirls | My guilty pleasure: Showgirls |
| (21 days later) | |
| "Next up … Showgirls." The mere recollection of the TV announcer's words still strikes fear into my bones. When you're a teenager, nothing is worse – not getting caught kissing behind the bike sheds by your teacher, not forgetting your PE kit and having to play hockey in your knickers – than having to watch a highly vigorous 1min 30sec lapdance scene while sitting in the same room as your mum and dad. I was nine when the film originally came out, so it wasn't until a few years later – once it had royally flopped at the box office and been confined to a midnight movie slot – that Showgirls came into my life. But it has never really left it since. | "Next up … Showgirls." The mere recollection of the TV announcer's words still strikes fear into my bones. When you're a teenager, nothing is worse – not getting caught kissing behind the bike sheds by your teacher, not forgetting your PE kit and having to play hockey in your knickers – than having to watch a highly vigorous 1min 30sec lapdance scene while sitting in the same room as your mum and dad. I was nine when the film originally came out, so it wasn't until a few years later – once it had royally flopped at the box office and been confined to a midnight movie slot – that Showgirls came into my life. But it has never really left it since. |
| Directed by Paul Verhoeven, the man responsible for Robocop, Basic Instinct, Total Recall and Starship Troopers, the film was a $40m disaster. Pitched as a mainstream flick about the futile nature of the American dream, it was the first big-budget erotic film since 1979's Caligula. But its gaudy ridiculousness was slammed by critics, who deemed it sexless and tacky. | Directed by Paul Verhoeven, the man responsible for Robocop, Basic Instinct, Total Recall and Starship Troopers, the film was a $40m disaster. Pitched as a mainstream flick about the futile nature of the American dream, it was the first big-budget erotic film since 1979's Caligula. But its gaudy ridiculousness was slammed by critics, who deemed it sexless and tacky. |
| While it is unquestionably vulgar, I think its sexual scenes are startling to watch. It is a mad kaleidoscope of exposed breasts, lip liner, seizure-like orgasms, more lip liner, and muscular men in gold lamé thongs. It is the fantasy imagining of sex before you discover that sex is more complex than champagne and pleasure. | While it is unquestionably vulgar, I think its sexual scenes are startling to watch. It is a mad kaleidoscope of exposed breasts, lip liner, seizure-like orgasms, more lip liner, and muscular men in gold lamé thongs. It is the fantasy imagining of sex before you discover that sex is more complex than champagne and pleasure. |
| Played by Saved By the Bell's Elizabeth Berkley, the film's protagonist is Nomi, a fiercely independent, Sindy Doll-like creature who arrives in Las Vegas lost, with no family, no friends and a CV consisting exclusively of straight-talking and lapdancing. Soon, her ability to arouse piques the attention of Cristal Connors, performed by the wickedly absurd Gina Gershon. A Texan lead dancer in an elaborate, mostly nude music hall stage show, Cristal scoops Nomi from obscurity and hires her as a performer, before slowly beginning to manipulate and sabotage her career. | Played by Saved By the Bell's Elizabeth Berkley, the film's protagonist is Nomi, a fiercely independent, Sindy Doll-like creature who arrives in Las Vegas lost, with no family, no friends and a CV consisting exclusively of straight-talking and lapdancing. Soon, her ability to arouse piques the attention of Cristal Connors, performed by the wickedly absurd Gina Gershon. A Texan lead dancer in an elaborate, mostly nude music hall stage show, Cristal scoops Nomi from obscurity and hires her as a performer, before slowly beginning to manipulate and sabotage her career. |
| Nomi's life eventually spirals out of control, fame dragging her into a world of debauchery and corruption. It is, in short, like watching Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge making cocaine-fuelled love to an episode of the Argentinan version of Dancing with the Stars, with a sugary smelling air-freshner clogging up your nostrils and Prince blasting from the stereo. | Nomi's life eventually spirals out of control, fame dragging her into a world of debauchery and corruption. It is, in short, like watching Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge making cocaine-fuelled love to an episode of the Argentinan version of Dancing with the Stars, with a sugary smelling air-freshner clogging up your nostrils and Prince blasting from the stereo. |
| Another of Showgirls' merits is that it is very easy to root for Nomi as the hero: not only does she dance like a flailing inflatable stick man, she is fiercely tough and ambitious throughout. As I got older, I found Showgirls significantly more inspiring than watching other big budget Hollywood movies, with their lead women running bralessly through the crashing debris, bleeding slightly from a forehead scratch and reduced to a crying heap as the male hero swoops in and slaughters the baddies. In Showgirls, the protagonist seeks bloodied retribution against a man who rapes her best friend. She hijacks a thief with a knife and talks about her period with alarming regularity and nonchalance. She is terrifying. | Another of Showgirls' merits is that it is very easy to root for Nomi as the hero: not only does she dance like a flailing inflatable stick man, she is fiercely tough and ambitious throughout. As I got older, I found Showgirls significantly more inspiring than watching other big budget Hollywood movies, with their lead women running bralessly through the crashing debris, bleeding slightly from a forehead scratch and reduced to a crying heap as the male hero swoops in and slaughters the baddies. In Showgirls, the protagonist seeks bloodied retribution against a man who rapes her best friend. She hijacks a thief with a knife and talks about her period with alarming regularity and nonchalance. She is terrifying. |
| Many people assume the film is satire – so tawdry and absurdly scripted that it must be underpinned with comedic intent. And perhaps parts of it are intentionally terrible. When the film dominated the 1995 Razzie awards, Verhoeven turned up personally to collect the award for worst director and worst picture - the first winner ever to accept a prize in person. Much like The Room, the film has since evolved into a cult classic, with fans arriving en masse to watch it at various screenings around the world. Personally, I'd sooner watch it late at night, volume turned low, and in total privacy; partly due to shame and guilt, but mostly as a comforting reminder that I'm no longer sitting paralysed by embarrassment as my mum finishes the ironing and my dad pretends to be asleep. | Many people assume the film is satire – so tawdry and absurdly scripted that it must be underpinned with comedic intent. And perhaps parts of it are intentionally terrible. When the film dominated the 1995 Razzie awards, Verhoeven turned up personally to collect the award for worst director and worst picture - the first winner ever to accept a prize in person. Much like The Room, the film has since evolved into a cult classic, with fans arriving en masse to watch it at various screenings around the world. Personally, I'd sooner watch it late at night, volume turned low, and in total privacy; partly due to shame and guilt, but mostly as a comforting reminder that I'm no longer sitting paralysed by embarrassment as my mum finishes the ironing and my dad pretends to be asleep. |
| My Guilty Pleasure: the rest of the series | My Guilty Pleasure: the rest of the series |
| • This article was corrected on 19 March to change the tense of the word sitting | • This article was corrected on 19 March to change the tense of the word sitting |