Haven't you heard? It's International Showgirls Day (the 10th anniversary of the Dutch premiere of Paul Verhoeven and Joe Ezterhaus's Showgirls... and, yes, Ezterhaus should get as much credit or blame as Verhoeven). I've been graciously asked to put in my own two cents, so I might as well toss in my little grubby pennies, although I don't know if I would have much to add to the fray. I saw the movie about 9 years ago on full-screen VHS (NC-17 version, though), and I don't remember much, but I do remember not liking it. In fact, I thought it was quite an ugly piece of work. That said, I would never venture to say Showgirls is without any merit. Indeed, I know there are many who love the shit out of it, and I'm fully (fooly?) aware of Verhoeven's reputation in some circles as a master satirist, subversively and jerkily baiting our notions and tweaking our perceptions of our grand American excess.
So, to flog a dead horse, yes sir, you're absolutely right, we are a goddamn mess; and thank you, Paul, for bravely providing the funhouse mirror to see our ourselves (darkly perhaps), in spite of ourselves, using every bone, screw and dye in your Dutch boy (done good)paintbox and seducing us all with your olive oil voice and European charm. Loud and stupid America (all of us!) salutes you, and now watches the legacy of your work on VH1 reruns.
Kudos to Flickhead for keeping it real.
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