Fifty Shades Of Grey

Dir: Sam Taylor-Johnson, 2015

0/10

With the release of Fifty Shades Darker, it was time to look at the first part of the trilogy.

Comically dubbed Fifty Shades Of Shite, this movie adaptation of the best-selling paperback is as awful as it’s origin.

Some virginal girl called Anastasia Steele, interviews multi-billionaire Christian Grey. Immediately falling for his charms, Anastasia is enticed into exploring her darker sexual side with BDSM.

Yeah, you can’t make the plot sound any more interesting than it actually is, no matter how hard you try.

The book by E.L James is a god-awful travesty of, what is supposed to be, literature. At the end of the day, you can’t polish a turd. Well, Mythbusters proved you can but even they would have an impossible job in making this shine!

A dreadful, dreadful script full of cliches and corn that causes the viewer to wince involuntary. Devoid of any eroticism, Fifty Shades Of Shite is woeful in its attempt to marry drama with a steamy storyline. My dogs drop things that are steamier than this.

Unintentionally hilarious, the characters are about as sexy as wet lettuce with the personalities to match. Christian Grey is a such a pompous arrogant ponce, that it’s unlikely a woman would ever fall his “charms”. Don’t believe me? Check out this line from the film:

Anastasia: What do I get if I agree to this?

Grey: Me.

Seriously?! Are the audience supposed to be enamoured by that? My missus laughed herself daft at that line. It’s so terrible. Anastasia is such a dull character. Apart from being tied up, she shows little interest in the alternate side of sex and shoots down any suggestion to try something different. For a character who is supposed to be experienced in bondage and finds it an important part of his sex life, why would he choose someone who is so close-minded? It doesn’t make sense. There’s just no logic, there. Grey and Anastasia just do not gel and have no chemistry between them.

The story is boring. The execution of the plot is mundane and carried out by someone who, clearly, doesn’t participate in S&M or has ever watched a porno. I’m sure there’s more to BDSM than what is portrayed here.

Fifty Shades Of Grey is very controversial in its depiction of the fetish lifestyle. Many commentators (mainly feminazis) have thrown accusations of rape and misogyny at the book and the film. Obviously, they haven’t, or hadn’t, read the book, much less seen the film and froth at the mouth like a rabid dog who has just eaten a pack of Alka-Seltzer’s.

These accusations are entirely false. Rape is a heinous crime and one that has an eternal impact on the physical and psychological health of the victim. A truly awful and vile act against that should never be taken lightly. The term “sexual assault” was coined for a reason. Rape isn’t about sex. It’s about power.

Everything in this story is, entirely, consensual. Grey does not force himself on Anastasia or break her down into performing S&M against her will. This is NOT about power or assault.

To further support the consensual nature of the story, Anastasia is in control. The characters follow the correct guidelines about trust and respect. At any time, Ana can leave. She can stop anything that she isn’t comfortable with. The couple use safe words. Unsurprisingly, this is a facet of the plot that feminists critical of the film and book choose to ignore. A sort of selective ignorance.

It’s also important to add that Grey asks Ana to sign a contract regarding the activities that will take place. However, she is given the option to look through the contract and amend it accordingly. Anything she doesn’t agree with is taken out. Everything is catered to her preferences and what she is comfortable with.

Anastasia is in control.

But, there is also a reason that it’s been called Fifty Shades Of Shite. Because it IS shite. Incidentally, where does the “fifty shades” but come into it? There’s just one. He likes a bit of spanking. End of.

However, there is one modicum of positivity going for the film; it’s better than the book. Only just, though. If you take into account that the book is one of the worst novels in the world and it’s author, E.L. James, should never be allowed to put words on paper, ever again, then it’s not saying much.

I wish that I could come up with fifty words to represent the fifty shades of poo that this film is.

Catastrophic, lamentable, appalling, odious, crap, shocking, unsatisfactory, direful….you get the idea.

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