In “Live Virgin,” the pampered daughter of a wealthy porn producer signs up to be deflowered live on pay-per-view for a handsome fee. The satirical premise at the heart of pic is pure gold, and glitters accordingly — in places. But the comic possibilities for social commentary are drowned out by mere schtick as the increasingly strident farce develops. Result is likely to elicit a “so what?” reaction from auds who take a live-and-let-live view of Jerry Springer and his guests, and to represent a letdown for viewers ripe for an entertaining analysis of the extinction of propriety on all-mighty TV. Ambitious but flawed comedy enjoyed a brief run on one Manhattan screen in June and is now being rolled out further.
French helmer-co-scripter Jean-Pierre Marois was struck by the core vulgarity of daytime talkshows that American viewers take for granted, but he encountered the dilemma expressed a quarter-century ago when songwriter Tom Lehrer pointed out it’s nearly impossible to pen satire in a world where Henry Kissinger has been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Despite that, “Live Virgin” paints a scathing portrait of media types badly in need of moral compasses, before losing its own sense of direction.
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Porn kingpin Ronny Bartolotti (Robert Loggia) expects his daughter Katrina (Mena Suvari) to go to college and become a lawyer; but Katrina wants to be an actress — of sorts. Leaving her high school sex-ed class early, Katrina appears on “The Quaint Show,” where host Quaint McPerson (Sally Kellerman) breaks the news that the board-certified virgin has agreed to have her cherry popped by a designated stud (Tony the Salami) in exchange for $200,000.
The event, on Katrina’s imminent 18th birthday, is the brainchild of promoter Joey Quinn (Bob Hoskins). He’s a one-time protege of Katrina’s father who has been a porn-biz rival ever since Ronny stole his wife. Ronny sets out to stop the show and rescue his daughter while cheesy commercials hosted by Joey flog an added, futuristic twist: Interactive body suits with control panels will enable viewers to share the sensations of Katrina and Tony’s big moment via Internet hook-up.
In a weaker subplot, Quaint’s son, Brian (Gabriel Mann), also tries to put a stop to the coming show. He and Katrina dated for six months but broke up when she mistakenly thought he slept with another girl.
Kellerman is perfect as the TV host registering frosty outrage tempered by titillation, and Hoskins is like a gleeful wind-up toy taunting Loggia that he’s gonna make millions off his former friend’s daughter. The live show gets under way with Katrina disguised as Joan of Arc, an historical figure synonymous with righteous virginity.
Despite a French producer and a French director, pic feels 100% American and suffers from none of the inaccuracies of some recent French forays into Anglo territory — such as the Luc Besson-originated “The Dancer,” set in the New York club and dance worlds, and Arnaud Desplechin’s disastrously cast tale of late 19th-century English theater, “Esther Kahn.”
Motivation is good all around but the script can’t sustain so many infuriated characters battling to thwart or to proceed with the televised main event. Although this isn’t her best perf to date, pic benefits from presence of Suvari, whose special relationship to sex and lust was a crucial component of “American Beauty.”
Porn legend Ron Jeremy, an adviser on the film, appears in a bit part, cast against type as a desk cop who’s reluctant to wear a virtual-reality suit.
