![]() It does, in a way, though without the sanctimony other filmmakers might have brought to the story. In The New York Review of Books, the feminist Ellen Willis said it best, finding the movie “witless, exploitative and about as erotic as a tonsillectomy.” Then as now, though, few seemed interested in the actual woman on screen. Norman Mailer weighed in as did Bob Hope, who’s seen briefly in “Lovelace” joking that he thought it was about a giraffe. Released in June 1972 in a Times Square theater, this hourlong dirty movie became a sensation, a touchstone, a disgrace, providing ample fodder for snickering late-night talk shows and bloviating editorial writers alike. In the contemporary pornotopia, when explicit sexual entertainments are a mouse click away, it can be difficult to appreciate the impact that “Deep Throat” had in the United States on its release. It delivers just as promised only to do a 180 in order to tell another, uglier story, this one involving beatings, rape and 24/7 terror. It’s inspired by the autobiography of one Linda Boreman, who when she was young, permed and under the spell of a violent pimp earned her place in hard-core history by suppressing her gag reflex in the 1972 film “Deep Throat.” With its “Boogie Nights” typeface and mustachioed dudes as slick and artificial as their Qiana threads, “Lovelace” promises the down-and-dirty best (or worst) with a snigger and pulsating beats. ![]() “Lovelace,” a movie about the chasm between public perception and private experience, pulls off a sly bait and switch.
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