Seyfried, with her huge features crowding her small face, looks like Alice in a very strange Wonderland. But whatever possibilities she may have as an actress are eradicated by the filmmakers ...
Linda's feelings are rarely revealed: that's left to the gloomy final act, which feels more like a guilt-inducing postscript than a genuine reveal.
"Lovelace" becomes too distracted by industry politics and the cultural context of the film's release to provide more than a snapshot of her life either before or after she stepped in front of a camera.
Lovelace bids to whip up hot indignation about an outrage four decades old. Instead, it provokes dismay.
Unfortunately, most of Lovelace is more generic and familiar, right down to the too-neat happy ending.
This drama from codirectors Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman is so respectful of 70s porn sensation Linda Lovelace that instead of humanizing the Deep Throat star, it reduces her to one dimension: victim.
Scattered moments of heat and light just don't add up to a forceful or vital movie about a subject that deserves one.
Directors Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman settle for a titillating, exploitative snapshot instead of a fully rounded portrait.
The familiar arc is complete, the grisly elements all ring true. But somehow it all feels too surface, too easy. Why, why, why? There must have been more.