There's an old maxim about censorship in Hollywood: If you show a naked woman in the act of making love it's filth and should be rated 'X.' However, if you take a chainsaw and disembowel that same woman, it's rated 'R' and the kiddies can attend if mommy and daddy can't afford a babysitter.
As the sniggering title suggests, don't come expecting too much in the way of sexual politics or modified feminist thinking in this soft-core examination of the world of hard-core. This is the work of producer Brian Grazer, Ron Howard's spiky-haired partner and the head of Imagine Entertainment. From the man who bankrolled "Parenthood," "My Girl" and "Kindergarten Cop" comes the first (and hopefully only) feel-good documentary ever made about the porno industry.
With the exception of a handful of exhibitors, the mob and one evangelically enlightened 'actor,' everybody associated with "Deep Throat" hasn't exactly profited from the experience. The first player we meet is director Gerardo Damiano. Only a former hair stylist turned smut peddler would attempt such a hideous salt and pepper (now entirely salt) weave on his head. This, coupled with a pair of hiked-to-the-nipples Sansabelts, gives the impression of a retired furrier, not a revolutionary adult filmmaker. Claims by the director that he was a radical on the front line of the sexual revolutions are nonsense. If ever a guy landed in the right place at the right time, it's Damiano. Judging by the finished product, the director didn't know which end of the camera he was looking through.
Then there's the film's male lead, Harry Reems who signed on as one of the crew and wound up a star. He also came closest to serving hard time but was spared, the film argues, by a new democratic administration. Long before Traci Lords, Reems was the first porn actor that tried to cross-over into mainstream cinema. Producer Alan Carr wanted to give Reems the role that eventually went to Sid Caesar in "Grease." When Paramount studio execs caught wind of of a porn star sullying their retro-teen musical they immediately put the kibosh on the casting. After years of self-medication, Reems not only went straight, he became a minister in Utah.
The reason that "Deep Throat" was such a mainstream hit had little to do with pornographic content. Basements across America were already equipped with portable screens, Super 8 projectors and stag reels. The one major point "Inside Deep Throat" completely overlooks is the fact the Linda Lovelace was the first reasonably attractive woman to appear in pornography. Say what you will about the film's attempt to incorporate a story, its "ground-breaking" sense of humor and the fact that it was shot on 35mm film. This film hit it big because prior to it, all you saw were zaftig maidens servicing plumbers framed in uncomfortable long shots.
There are a few nuggets of gold gossip to be mined along the way. Helen Gurley Brown loves a protein-enriched facial and horror hack Wes Craven got his start in pornos. Why am I not surprised? The only true pornographic artist was the great Russ Meyer, yet even he knew to stay soft core.
The directors keep the interviews moving with loads of cute, flashy bridging shots. Not surprisingly, the film offers up more than a few behind-the-scenes oddballs. Aside from Damiano there's his assistant director, an unhealthy cross between Charlie Callas and Prof. Irwin Corey. who is all too kind when confessing that as a filmmaker Damiano is a safe distance from "Luke Goddard." Then there's location manager Lenny Camp, a cantankerous, stone-deaf octogenarian with his hand permanently cupped to his ear. Not one for revisionist thinking. Lenny"s mantra is simple: "It was s**t then and its s**t now!" Showing Ms. Lovelace doing what she's most famous for was a must, yet I'm still surprised by the film's overall timid depiction of sexually explicit material. There is one quick shot of Linda swallowing. Even though the title explicitly refers to oral sex, the filmmakers' rapid editing approach to the more overt sexual material comes off a bit cowardly.
The film is crammed with witnesses to the time. Norman Mailer, John Waters, Helen Gurley Brown, Dr. Ruth, Erica Jong, Gore Vidal, Larry Flint, Dick Cavett and Camille Paglia, Hugh Hefner all add insight, but alas, the film's major player died in a car crash in the early nineties. Initial interviews with Lovelace show an "actress" proud of her work and notoriety. With the publication of her autobiography "Ordeal," Lovelace changed horses and began riding a feminist bandwagon. A key target in her book is Hugh Hefner, a man who Lovelace claimed like to force Playmates to have sex with dogs while he watched. The only thing more offensive than his calm, fatherly presence here is the filmmaker's refusal to call Hef on the carpet, presumably in exchange for his compliance to appear.
One of the first times we see Lovelace is in a clip from the "Donahue" show where she claims that everyone who saw the film basically watched a rape. By all accounts, husband Chuck Trainor drove Linda almost as hard as Paul Snider pressured Dorothy Stratton. Indeed, at various times in "Deep Throat" one can detect bruises on Lovelace's body. Sadly, her testimony is dubious as several years prior to her death she once again turned to the world of porn, this time doing a spread in ultra-skanky Legshow Magazine.
So if it's not sexual politics or feminist thinking that sparked curiosity about this nostalgic bit of smut, what is it? Before mentioning politics, before we're introduced to the film's motley band of players, even before the opening credits are done rolling, we are hit with the point that I think impressed producer Grazer the most: a film that cost a paltry $25,000 went on to gross over $600 million.
As the sniggering title suggests, don't come expecting too much in the way of sexual politics or modified feminist thinking in this soft-core examination of the world of hard-core. This is the work of producer Brian Grazer, Ron Howard's spiky-haired partner and the head of Imagine Entertainment. From the man who bankrolled "Parenthood," "My Girl" and "Kindergarten Cop" comes the first (and hopefully only) feel-good documentary ever made about the porno industry.
With the exception of a handful of exhibitors, the mob and one evangelically enlightened 'actor,' everybody associated with "Deep Throat" hasn't exactly profited from the experience. The first player we meet is director Gerardo Damiano. Only a former hair stylist turned smut peddler would attempt such a hideous salt and pepper (now entirely salt) weave on his head. This, coupled with a pair of hiked-to-the-nipples Sansabelts, gives the impression of a retired furrier, not a revolutionary adult filmmaker. Claims by the director that he was a radical on the front line of the sexual revolutions are nonsense. If ever a guy landed in the right place at the right time, it's Damiano. Judging by the finished product, the director didn't know which end of the camera he was looking through.
Then there's the film's male lead, Harry Reems who signed on as one of the crew and wound up a star. He also came closest to serving hard time but was spared, the film argues, by a new democratic administration. Long before Traci Lords, Reems was the first porn actor that tried to cross-over into mainstream cinema. Producer Alan Carr wanted to give Reems the role that eventually went to Sid Caesar in "Grease." When Paramount studio execs caught wind of of a porn star sullying their retro-teen musical they immediately put the kibosh on the casting. After years of self-medication, Reems not only went straight, he became a minister in Utah.
The reason that "Deep Throat" was such a mainstream hit had little to do with pornographic content. Basements across America were already equipped with portable screens, Super 8 projectors and stag reels. The one major point "Inside Deep Throat" completely overlooks is the fact the Linda Lovelace was the first reasonably attractive woman to appear in pornography. Say what you will about the film's attempt to incorporate a story, its "ground-breaking" sense of humor and the fact that it was shot on 35mm film. This film hit it big because prior to it, all you saw were zaftig maidens servicing plumbers framed in uncomfortable long shots.
There are a few nuggets of gold gossip to be mined along the way. Helen Gurley Brown loves a protein-enriched facial and horror hack Wes Craven got his start in pornos. Why am I not surprised? The only true pornographic artist was the great Russ Meyer, yet even he knew to stay soft core.
The directors keep the interviews moving with loads of cute, flashy bridging shots. Not surprisingly, the film offers up more than a few behind-the-scenes oddballs. Aside from Damiano there's his assistant director, an unhealthy cross between Charlie Callas and Prof. Irwin Corey. who is all too kind when confessing that as a filmmaker Damiano is a safe distance from "Luke Goddard." Then there's location manager Lenny Camp, a cantankerous, stone-deaf octogenarian with his hand permanently cupped to his ear. Not one for revisionist thinking. Lenny"s mantra is simple: "It was s**t then and its s**t now!" Showing Ms. Lovelace doing what she's most famous for was a must, yet I'm still surprised by the film's overall timid depiction of sexually explicit material. There is one quick shot of Linda swallowing. Even though the title explicitly refers to oral sex, the filmmakers' rapid editing approach to the more overt sexual material comes off a bit cowardly.
The film is crammed with witnesses to the time. Norman Mailer, John Waters, Helen Gurley Brown, Dr. Ruth, Erica Jong, Gore Vidal, Larry Flint, Dick Cavett and Camille Paglia, Hugh Hefner all add insight, but alas, the film's major player died in a car crash in the early nineties. Initial interviews with Lovelace show an "actress" proud of her work and notoriety. With the publication of her autobiography "Ordeal," Lovelace changed horses and began riding a feminist bandwagon. A key target in her book is Hugh Hefner, a man who Lovelace claimed like to force Playmates to have sex with dogs while he watched. The only thing more offensive than his calm, fatherly presence here is the filmmaker's refusal to call Hef on the carpet, presumably in exchange for his compliance to appear.
One of the first times we see Lovelace is in a clip from the "Donahue" show where she claims that everyone who saw the film basically watched a rape. By all accounts, husband Chuck Trainor drove Linda almost as hard as Paul Snider pressured Dorothy Stratton. Indeed, at various times in "Deep Throat" one can detect bruises on Lovelace's body. Sadly, her testimony is dubious as several years prior to her death she once again turned to the world of porn, this time doing a spread in ultra-skanky Legshow Magazine.
So if it's not sexual politics or feminist thinking that sparked curiosity about this nostalgic bit of smut, what is it? Before mentioning politics, before we're introduced to the film's motley band of players, even before the opening credits are done rolling, we are hit with the point that I think impressed producer Grazer the most: a film that cost a paltry $25,000 went on to gross over $600 million.