Fetish Pin-up Drama Doesn't Probe Subject

Fifties fetish pinup Bettie Page, known in pornography circles for her black-haired bangs and kinky straps, whips and boots, predated Playboy magazine and, apparently, caused quite a stir—eventually being asked to appear before a senator's porn hearing.

Sounds interesting and, for a while, The Notorious Bettie Page holds its own, giving us curvy Gretchen Mol in the title role as a gorgeous Southern belle raised by fundamentalist Christian parents who, it is tastefully suggested, allow the beautiful child to be abused by the father. Bombshell Bettie is a popular girl, but, while she isn't ashamed of her sexuality, like most kids, she merely wants to have fun and go to college.

She has the brains, with good study habits and a near-Valedictorian academic record. But her higher education goal is derailed after a chain of unfortunate events. She marries an abuser and, after walking out on him, she foolishly accepts a sidewalk invitation one night and finds herself surrounded by a gang of rapists. It breaks your heart and it sets Bettie on another course in life.

Soon, the former debate teammate is boarding a bus to New York. The die is cast. Whatever else, she has a good head on her shoulders, and she makes her way in New York, taking fancy acting classes, with mixed results, working and staying out of trouble. When an amateur photographer spots her on the beach and asks Bettie to pose for pictures, she figures what the heck.

This leads to that and Bettie winds up posing for fetish photo sessions—some nude, some in boots, some in collars and chains with other women—at a backroom photoshop run by a pair of small-time porn hustlers who take care of the girls with no funny business. It's all fine and good—too good to be true. The movie falters with a characterization of Bettie Page, through no fault of Mol's, which is more empty vessel than lost soul. Life happens to her, time and again, and Bettie becomes virtually lifeless.

Maybe that's the movie's point, leaving her awaiting testimony before a government commission, but it has her wandering aimlessly from Miami, where she meets a Muscle Beach type, back to New York, where she has an actor boyfriend whose role is never clear, and, finally, back to the South where she takes refuge in, you guessed it, religion.

Too many questions are raised and left unanswered: why did she continue to pose after obtaining clear evidence that the sex kitten shots were harmful to her acting career? Why didn't she go to college, or move on up in a non-sexual profession, after she had the means? Are we really supposed to believe nothing went on during those photo shoots? The most penetrating questions about the incalculably high cost of a life in pornography go completely unexamined.

The net effect is less than notorious, making one wonder what really happened in the life of Bettie Page.