Dear David,

_Hey, watch the teeth! _

That's a phrase nobody involved in a porno ever wants to hear--even back in the 70s. Same thing applies to a film that's _about _making porn in the '70s. It just ruins the magic. Kills the vibe. Makes the whole thing feel forced. Frankly, if someone has to say it: you're doing a sloppy job.

The good news is, I never once noticed your teeth. You performed like a pro. Just like Linda Lovelace in the X-rated blockbuster Deep Throat. Which also worries me-- were you horrifically taken advantage of, too?

Hey, it's possible. With so many stars on set, who's to say you weren't pressured to do a few favours on the side? Maybe a courtesy polish for Amanda Seyfried, who was probably looking for any excuse to smile after recreating the abuse and rape that her character endured in real-life? Maybe James Franco needed some help scraping the residual plaque from his Spring Breakers grill to portray Hugh Hefner? Maybe Peter Sarsgaard begged for a total orthodontic reconstruction so he'd never have to portray another snaggle-toothed creep ever again? The stories you must have! I can hardly wait for your inevitable tell-all book that reveals everything that went on behind the scenes of Lovelace.

I expect you'll take the lead of co-directors Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman by telling us the whole tale the way we expect it happened. It will be an artistic rendition, with straightforward but pleasing cinematography, well-designed period details and comfortable pacing that allows the characters to feel like the flesh-and-blood counterparts they're portraying. The first half of the story will only hint at the mistreatment. Then, at the midway point, we can go back to fill in the gaps and see how glossed-over the first story really was.

This is the most fascinating aspect of Lovelace. But the problem is, like a set of dentures, no matter how accurate the molds and fittings they're still artificial. The film never acknowledges Lovelace's tendency to contradict her own statements, her pendulous back-and-forth swing in and out of the feminist movement, and it certainly fails to mention her involvement in the bestiality film Dogarama that preceded Deep Throat (I guess there are some cavities best left unfilled).

So get to work. If Deep Throat could make $600M dollars, I'm sure you can cash in on the public's oral fixation too.