I was two years old when the obscenity laws applied by a loaded Nixon Senate convicted Harry Reems, the male star of Deep Throat, of the crime of "conspiracy to transport obscenity across state lines" in a court in Memphis, Tennessee. According to Inside Deep Throat, Reems was the fall guy for a witch-hunt in which the champions of pre-neo-liberal morality saw their chance to begin applying their moral certainties to a population.
The era seems far away now, but its repercussions are as close as your VCR. It was "a heck of a time," as Johnny Carson jokes in the first minutes of the documentary, when "judges could watch Deep Throat but weren't allowed to listen to the tapes." Carson was referring to the other Deep Throat tapes, of course - the Watergate Deep Throat being second only in fame and importance to the one that played to huge audiences in Times
The rhetoric from Deep Throat's detractors is more than instructive, in a historical sense. Ample airtime is given to the moral furore from both sides, both the retro footage and present-day interviews with Larry Parrish - the larger-than-life federal prosecutor responsible for ultimately indicting Deep Throat's star - and '70s-era second-wave feminists like Gloria Steinem are given a chance to recap their impassioned opposition. All this seems strange, or at least writ large, in an age where Internet porn and DVD rentals have pretty much answered the pressing questions hardcore porn was asking of the populace in the 1970s.
But the real pleasure of Inside Deep Throat, beyond the anthropological value of the snippets of footage from the original film (so much bush! such weird tits!), lies in the skillful and entertaining making-of stories Grazer's team digs up. Jerry Damiano, the New Jersey hairdresser-cum-director responsible for Deep Throat and others (The Devil in Miss Jones, for one), funded his movie with $25,000 of mob money, wrote the script in a weekend, and changed the rhetoric of the First Amendment forever in America. His film made $600-million, becoming the most profitable film in cinema history. Not only that, he had the wherewithal to cut a real woman's cum face with rockets taking off, and his genius coined a line of dialogue that, truly, is emblematic of women's sexuality in the 20th century: "Do you want to get off, or do you want to wreck a city?"
Damiano today is a wrinkly Florida family man with pants pulled up to there. By his own admission, Deep Throat was a lark - a badly made blue movie inspired by his discovery of Linda Lovelace's absent gag reflex. Deep Throat was a silly, witty, nudgy movie about a woman who finds that she can't get off from the old in-'n'-out because her clitoris is found to be in the back of her throat. It boasts a boring opening sequence, bad acting, out-of-focus shots, and bad jokes (a woman, astride a male mouth on a kitchen counter, brandishes an unlit cigarette: "Mind if I smoke while you're eating?"). But it pushes you to ask: What more could one want?
Inside Deep Throat
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