(MA, 93 minutes). Opens Thursday.
Initially earmarked locally for a home entertainment-only release, this credible period biopic from documentarians Jeffrey Friedman and Rob Epstein dramatises the lurid and ultimately tragic story of former porn protege Linda Lovelace.
The Deep Throat star's brutal treatment at the hands of husband-manager Chuck Traynor only came to light when Lovelace (nee Boreman) did an about-face six years after her 1972 screen debut paved the way for a legitimate pornography industry on screen.
Radically turning from an advocate of free speech to championing women's rights caused some to pour scorn on Boreman's dramatic switch - until the grim realities of her exploitative marriage were revealed in a second autobiography.
Lovelace seeks to address the reasons behind Boreman's transformation: from put-upon girl-next-door to free-wheeling fellatio champion to broken victim, warning of the horrors of exploitation.
Amanda Seyfried puts in a surprisingly effective turn as the flawed heroine, with a wide-eyed delivery that, partially at least, explains why Boreman was duped by an opportunistic hustler like Traynor. Likewise, Peter Sarsgaard is excellent as Traynor, infusing the character with a horrific sociopathic bent that is terrifying (and heartbreaking) to watch. An unrecognisable Sharon Stone, as Boreman's equally monstrous, God-fearing mother, proves equally chilling.
Awash with period detail, and replaying key scenes as Boreman relays her version of events to biographers in flashback, Lovelace presents a gloomy, grimy story with enough lurid detail to gets its point across.
Boreman was apparently brutally bullied by Traynor into prostitution. To her dismay, she became the poster child for the porn industry, only to then attempt an expose of the seedy truths that lay beneath it.
As good as it is, Lovelace oddly avoids further illuminating Boreman, beyond what we already know. We're presented with a tidy picture of her rise, fall and redemption. But there's little else to provide a fully rounded picture of her as a character and human being. Similarly, there is much that is left out, including the fate of Anthony Romano (Sex and the City's Chris Noth), Boreman's protector of sorts.
Neither lightweight, then, nor particularly revealing, Lovelace presents select fact as dramatic fiction convincingly.