On the heels of his landslide re-election win over George McGovern in 1972, President Richard Nixon was facing a host of domestic challenges. Public opinion had soured over the prolonged conflict in Vietnam. Demonstrations closed college campuses and filled city streets. A break-in at Democratic National Headquarters in the Watergate Building had two Washington Post reporters closing in on a scandal that was edging ever closer to implicating members of his inner circle in illegal activity. And a porn film that had premiered in June was making headlines, drawing celebrity audiences and challenging free speech and obscenity laws. The film’s crossover appeal was so great, “porn-chic” became a sign of sophistication and a Washington Post editor nicknamed its anonymous source after its title, “Deep Throat.”
The mob-financed film starring Linda Lovelace had become part of the cultural zeitgeist, so much so that its star attended the Academy Awards in 1974. And, in an effort to distract attention from the spotlight on his administration, Nixon, who abhorred pornography, increased efforts to prosecute those involved. As it played in theaters across the country, it was banned as obscene in 23 states. Its director, Gerard Damiano Sr., ran into trouble with the mob, and found himself arrested and tried on obscenity charges. Appeals on verdicts went all the way to the Supreme Court, which refused to hear them. There were questions about First Amendment rights and freedom of speech.
By 1976, Linda Lovelace wanted a different trajectory. With her second husband Larry Marchiano, she moved to Center Moriches. In a 1999 interview in The Village Voice, she explained the reasons for their move and the aftermath when her connection to the film was exposed.
“I came to Long Island because I was pregnant with my son, Dominic. I was with Larry Marchiano from Bellport. The people of Center Moriches helped me out wonderfully. I was kind of living in seclusion. Nobody knew who I was. I was a class mother. I was an assistant teacher’s aide. One day I was watching ‘Donahue’ (a popular talk show) and (feminist) Susan Brownmiller made a comment like, ‘Linda Lovelace did this to become famous in the movies.’ It made me angry. And I said, ‘I’m writing the book.’”
Having been the target of jokes and salacious stories, and hostility from feminist groups and conservatives, Linda Marchiano decided to enlist Michael McGrady, a well-regarded Newsday columnist, for work on her story. In “Ordeal,” she told her version of events, leading up to and during filming, accusing her ex-husband of abuse and coercion, and in effect, taking on the adult film industry for its exploitation of women.
“Michael McGrady was the first person that I ever really told what happened to me,” she said. “Until the book, no one knew the real story.”
There were counteraccusations questioning her version of events and the part she played in them. For his part, McGrady hadn’t taken any chances. He’d had her submit to a polygraph test. Because of the sensitivity of the story, and the risk, their interviews were conducted at her attorney’s office in Bay Shore; he wrote in seclusion in Northport. The adult film trade was a thriving business in New York City and out on Long Island, including in the Hamptons, where beautiful homes equipped with hot tubs and secluded beachfront vistas provided backdrops for films. It was also an industry with ties to some questionable associates.
“It was the most exhausting writing job I’ve ever had, including Vietnam,” he said. “It was extremely gut-wrenching.”
“Ordeal” was published in 1980. For Lovelace/Marchiano, it was liberating. “When the book came, people in the neighborhood reacted by thanking me for my courage and my strength… I didn’t think things like this happened. They got to know me first, and then they learned of the LL thing… It opened people’s eyes [about exploitation in adult films].”
A second book, “Out of Bondage,” detailing her life after leaving the industry, followed. Later, she would join feminists Gloria Steinem, Andrea Dworkin, and Women Against Pornography in the effort to ban pornography and stop exploitation of women, eventually testifying before Attorney General Meese’s hearings for his Commission on Exploitation within the industry.
But as her activism grew, her marriage and home life deteriorated. By 1990, both of her husband’s businesses had failed. The family moved to Colorado in search of better opportunities. In 1996, the couple divorced. Before her untimely death in 2002, she was interviewed for an article, entitled “Dirty Work,” by Bill Jensen, Stacy Albin and Jon Hart in The Village Voice, where she described her current situation.
“I work in user support for an investment company in Denver and I have a part-time job at night where I clean office buildings. I’m up at 5 o’clock every day… and I have a grandson and my son just got married and she has a child from a previous marriage. I’d like to have a place where they all could visit. I miss Long Island. I miss everybody there, and I miss the ocean.”
The Washington Post received the Pulitzer Prize for Public Service, its highest award, in 1973, for its coverage of the Watergate break-in; reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein published “All the President’s Men,” their account of the investigation.
Richard Nixon resigned in disgrace on Aug. 9, 1974.
Before his death in 2008, Mark Felt, former co-deputy director of the FBI under Nixon, revealed he was the informant “Deep Throat.”
Marking the 50th anniversary of its release, in 2022, The Guardian’s David Smith observed yet another aspect of the film: its place in history. “The debates [over free speech vs. obscenity] will rage on, but Deep Throat’s name is assured immortality, thanks to the man who waged war on pornography: Nixon.”
And to the woman who challenged the industry that produced it: Linda Lovelace Marchiano.
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