Film Review: Lovelace
Linda Lovelace is well-known for only one thing: Deep Throat. The 1972 film that rocketed her to stardom was, however, only one part of her story, and the new film Lovelace pretends to fill in the blanks. But, instead of filling in, it shoots them.
Directed by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman, two filmmakers whose Celluloid Closet busted the doors of gay representation in the cinema wide open (it is a film that remains astoundingly full of ideas, all seamlessly connected), Lovelace is a supremely artificial product that relies on its slightly unconventional structure to give it weight, but its lack of content doesn’t grab our attention for very long.
This is the second flop in a row for Epstein and Friedman – their 2010 film Howl, about the controversial poem by Allen Ginsberg, was actually much worse – and while they were almost certainly drawn to the material because of its historical importance, it just goes to show that sometimes the difference between documentary and fiction matters a great deal.
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