What I can't understand about Showgirls is, what does the Religious Right have against it? I mean, aside from all the bare tit, this is a movie you could play in church and do sermons about. Almost every character, all of whom are in "show biz," is a scumbag, including the "heroine" (Elizabeth Berkley), and they all pay for it in the end, one way or another. The sole exception is Molly (Gina Ravera) —and she gets violently raped by her rock-star idol and his buddies.

Besides that, as much as it dwells on naked female flesh, Showgirls could hardly be called a feminist tract; most of the gals depicted here are ready to stab each other in the back at the drop of a hat —and do. And gays are unlikely to appreciate the rampant homophobia, even though the Sapphic "undercurrents" are laid on with a trowel —hell, they almost qualify as a subplot!

Berkley plays Nomi Malone —"Know Me"; get it?— who, 30 seconds after she accepts a hitch to Vegas, pulls out her switchblade and threatens the driver because he asked if she'd like to get "friendly." Fuck "Nomi"; call this babe "Attitude!" She freaks every time anyone even suggests that she might want to rent her bod for an evening or a job. A little disingenuous, one might say, considering the fact that at the movie's end (sssh; don't tell anybody) we find out she's been hooking her way across the country.

Attitude —excuse me; Berkley— meets Ravera who, after taking a ration of shit from her during a meal which Ravera pays for, offers Berkley a free place to live. So much for logical plot progression. Ravera lets Berkley accompany her to work —she's a dresser at the Stardust Casino/Hotel— where Nomi meets "Big Show" star Crystal Connors (Gina Gershon), who vaguely resembles Ava Gardner after a hard night, and Gershon's boyfriend, casino entertainment manager Zack (Kyle MacLachlan). During their brief chat, Gershon casually implies that Berkley "sells it," because she's a dancer at a local strip/lap dancing club, and, of course, Berkley immediately clouds up and stalks out. Later, however, for $500, she performs one of the world's worst lap dances on MacLachlan while Gershon watches. (According to the New York Times, while doing "research" for the screenplay, writer Joe Ezsterhas was "forced... to experience lap dancing on an up-close, personal basis," but if his dancer squashed his dick like Berkley mashes MacLachlan's, it's no wonder he —obviously— hates women.)

Soon after, Berkley auditions for a dance role in the Big Show's chorus, where we finally get to see her major talent: she can wiggle her hips with the best of them —and she gets to wear slutty eye makeup to boot! Alan Rachins is director Tony Ross, who suggests that Berkley use ice to make her nipples stand erect. Of course, Berkley immediately clouds up and stalks out. Only Gershon's intercession saves her job. Later, the two share an intimate dinner and secluded nipple-to-nipple dance. After their brief closeness, Gershon whispers, "You see, darlin' —you are a whore." Of course, Berkley immediately etc., etc..

But it seems MacLachlan can't forget that lap dance, so he seduces Berkley, who gives him a royal (simulated) fucking in his swimming pool. Anyone who's ever tried that in real life will marvel at the energy Berkley puts into her screwing. There's no Astro-Glide in sight, and chlorine is not a good lubricant.

Thanks to MacLachlan, Berkley becomes Gershon's understudy, which thrills the star no end. But as MacLachlan inquires, after he admits he fucked Berkley, "Are you pissed off because you're jealous, Crys, or because I beat you to the punch?"

Eventually, Berkley pushes Gershon down some stairs and winds up as the star of the show (as if we couldn't have guessed), but the simple truth is, Showgirls is one BAD (boring, poorly written and acted, twistedly "moral") movie. Take out the lap dance, the in-pool fuck, the violent rape scene, the heavy lesbian undertones, and Berkley's full frontal nudity, and this mess would hit the $5 sell-through bin real quick. We know Ezsterhas was paid $4 million for the script —essentially a retread of Dan Sonney formulaic exploitation flicks— so I figure the rest of the $40 million budget broke down as $2 million actors' and crew salaries, $34 million choreography.

Someone wrote in the Los Angeles Times that, because Showgirls is such a bomb, NC-17 is now a dead rating. But despite this movie's bad publicity —Morality In Media issued a press release denouncing both the film and its marketing campaign "for crassly exploiting the film's prurient appeal" —and despite the posturing by Verhoeven and Ezsterhas about the "art" they've created, the only real lesson here is that Hollywood still doesn't know how to deal with sexual situations on screen. Either make porn or don't —but spending $40 million on an unrealistic half-measure like this is just stupid.