Ironically, Lovelace, the new biopic about Linda Lovelace, the first mainstream porn star, is akin to soft core porn in that we’re never really fulfilled. For the most part, the film will avoid a late-night run on Cinemax or Showtime because it avoids pandering to the audience with unnecessary nudity – though Amanda Seyfried as the titular character is topless a handful of times throughout.
Instead, the film follows a Boogie Nights trope, focusing on the gaping eyes and dropping jaws of all those who are in the presence of Lovelace’s skills. Let’s not be mistaken here though: Lovelace is no Boogie Nights. Rather, it is a shallow précis of Paul Thomas Anderson’s film about the precarious merger between pornography and art.
With Seyfried as Lovelace and Peter Sarsgaard as Chuck Traynor, Linda’s psychologically and physically abusive husband , pimp, and agent, the acting might be the best part of the film. Seyfried consistently (and accurately) carries a Bronx accent and Sarsgaard pulls off charismatic creep with the best of them, but the overall film is lacking. For starters, the history of Deep Throat, the enormously – almost preposterously – successful pornographic film from 1972 is fascinating. Being the first – or, at least, most famous – pornographic film to include a veritable plot and character development, Deep Throat begs us to wonder what lines separate filth from art. In other words, does a more developed narrative elide the filth? Does it dismiss the shame often associated with viewing pornography?
Deep Throat also perpetuated the rise of an era known as “porno chic,” which is defined by the increasing awareness of pornography and its near acceptance into mainstream culture.
But all of this is swept aside as what might be called the “focus” of the film is centered on Lovelace’s life, but, for the most part, it’s set off to the right or left.
Brought up in a strict Catholic household, Lovelace (originally born Linda Boreman) is a good girl. Initially – and uber-ironically — her friend Patsy’s (Juno Temple) suggestion of oral sex is met with a “yuk,” right before her mother accuses them of running a nudist colony by sunbathing with the strings of their bikinis undone.
In effect, Linda’s introduction to Trainer provides her with the excitement, spontaneity, and freedom that her family prohibits. And then he guides her in the art of oral sex, telling her to “remember to breathe” and pimps her out. She becomes a star and meets Hugh Hefner (James Franco). And just as she struts onto stage to a round of applause, the film jumps back to when Linda and Chuck first marry. The story is re-told, only slightly different, with formerly endearing moments turned abusive. His support of her abilities is re-told as a husband pimping out his wife for a gangbang. The admiration shown her on set is seen as more derisive, and her success is a major blow to his ego and an excuse for him to keep her securely locked up in the house while he swindles all of the money she’s earned.
Perhaps the second version is more true than the first, but I’m not sure if this is revelatory. The film ends with a recreation of the Phil Donohue interview that re-introduced Lovelace to the public in the 1980’s. This video can be found on Youtube or with a quick Google search, and like her interviews and Traynor’s subsequent denials, the film becomes a battle of “he said / she said.”
The problem inherent here is that nothing is really developed. The retelling goes no deeper than nuance. And perhaps this is the intention. Perhaps slight differences in interpretations (passion vs. rape; pornography vs. prostitution) is what defines abuse.
But what’s overtly lost in this tragic tale is the irony: a film that lauds sexual freedom is a film that keeps Lovelace – supposedly in real life and certainly in the film – a prisoner. In real life, she’s moored to Traynor, who more often than once threatens to kill her. In the film, she’s shackled by her inability to find ultimate pleasure in sex. Yes, her clitoris resides in her throat, but her source of pleasure is contingent on doing something that she doesn’t enjoy.
