Pornography is mainstream these days. Even before the internet brought pornography within a mouse click of every household, most countries had been relaxing the laws against publishing pornographic material for many years. In the UK, the man at the centre of this trend, with a vast entertainment, publishing and real estate empire that at one point made him the richest man in the country, was Paul Raymond, the so-called Kind Of Soho.
The Look Of Love, directed by Michael Winterbottom and starring Steve Coogan as Raymond, is a lighthearted, nostalgic biopic that for the most part looks back longingly at the popularisation of sleaze in the 60s and 70s. The Look Of Love does have a tragic arc, but in every act, the film reminds you of this tragedy then quickly looks away to the more fun aspects of the era.
Fans of Steve Coogan’s TV work will see plenty of the Alan Partridge character in The Look Of Love’s portrait of Paul Raymond. When it works, it’s almost charming, giving the younger Raymond a gormlessly populist streak that is wittily satirical (while not managing to be actually funny) and infusing the older Raymond with slight charm as we (try to) sympathise with his personal tragedy.
But, this portrayal makes it hard to judge the man’s character, as a pornographer and also, perhaps even more importantly, as a terrible father who exploited one child (and was complicit in her substance abuse problem), while largely ignoring his other two children and walking out on both their mothers.
Matters are not helped by the way The Look Of Love is pieced together. The film starts near the end of Raymond’s life, with him looking back at one, or a series of documentaries. The look of the film changes with the passing of time in Raymond’s life and also as we slip in and out of flashbacks and mock-documentary footage. It’s a post-modern disjointedness that worked well in Winterbottom and Coogan’s previous collaboration, Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story (2005) but here, it often feels like a distraction (as does the parade of TV comedians in minor roles).
Sadly, the cleverness of the storytelling and unwillingness to “judge” Raymond cheapens the central relationship, that of Raymond and his daughter Debbie (Imogen Poots). Poots is often brilliant, alternating between approval-seeking adolescence and self-destructive adulthood. But, her moments are too sharply cut to see the evolution of her tragedy, a tragedy with roots in her father’s career and way of life.
In fact, The Look Of Love has three, potentially great, yet underdeveloped female lead characters. Anna Friel does what she can with the part as Raymond’s wife Jean. But, everything we see of Jean is just a reflection of Raymond. Her motivations, either for marrying him, indulging his infidelities or later trying to make him jealous after their divorce remain a mystery.
Tamsin Egerton brings an impressively misguided poshness to Raymond’s later love interest, Amber, who goes on to assume the pen name Fiona Richmond. Amber is wonderfully dressed, the image of 70s Pirelli Calendar glamour. She has perhaps the best moment of any of the three moments, a sighed look when Raymond’s hypocrisy is revealed for all the world to see. But, it’s just a moment.
Raymond made his money exploiting women, or at least, exploiting men’s desire to look at women. What we think of that will reflect our personal ideas about morality and society. But, he also failed to take care of his own daughter, with tragic consequences, by placing her at the centre of an empire built on this exploitation.
This is a related, but separate moral question The Look Of Love doesn’t seem willing to address, even as it asks us to sympathise with Raymond and look at his years in the spotlight with a kind of wistful nostalgia.
The Look Of Love is not a badly made film. It evokes a moment in British history well and Coogan brings a lot to the lead role. The Look Of Love is a dark tale told with a light touch, which will make it more palatable to some viewers and more offensive to others.
