Linda Lovelace for President

It may be entirely fruitless to be outraged by this ugly piggybacking on porno chic — that’s what its makers want and any protestation will only make them chortle with greater amounts of glee. But let it be known that this exploitation of Linda Lovelace’s plight — made just after her flight from porn and determined to make her an oblivious punch line — will please the kind of people it will please and drive all others to a life of alcoholism. A hateful collection of ethnic and sexual stereotypes can’t get their party to find a candidate until they decide on Lovelace, thus setting in motion a collection of feeble puns, lazy double-entendres and set pieces ennobled by the word "inappropriate.” The point really isn’t to be funny but to be offensive, and while that isn’t necessarily a bad thing (in theory), the leave-nothing-standing approach becomes so wearing that you want to run and hide. Not even South Park would stray into these waters of brutality (though Parker and Stone will no doubt cherish their copy) and even if they did they’d temper it with a certain amount of savage wit. The lazy writing exposes the filmmakers as the schoolyard bullies they are, sealing the deal with what must have been a nightmare for a Lovelace already reeling from her ordeal with Chuck Traylor. Andrea Dworkin herself couldn’t have contrived a better illustration of her worst nightmares, and it isn’t even hardcore. The only extra is a featurette in which the producer seems predictably oblivious.