Let’s be honest, every couple of years we get the same story in a different form. If it isn’t a remake or sequel, Hollywood will bring out the big guns and scoop out a book adaptation to make millions.
This year we got the book adaptation of the same name, Fifty Shades of Grey.
The story is of a 20-something billionaire named Christian Grey, played by Jamie Dornan, who for some strange reason is to be interviewed by a college student who gets ill and ends up sending her friend to do the interview.
Anastasia Steele (this name could only come out of an adult film or adult book), played by Dakota Johnson, is the friend’s name.
She is a literature student with weirdly exceptional interviewing skills.
Long story short, Steele falls for the beautiful disaster that is Christian Grey and comes to find out that there is more than meets the eye.
Yes, again to what I was saying before, Hollywood has a way of churning up past storylines and attracting newer folk to the cinemas.
This year featured the sex-filled film that will have the world in controversy. But for such a big movie, all it really did was annoy me.
We start out with a fast pace and beautiful visuals. Yet around the 40-minute mark, the story decides to sit down and take a nap right along with all the men who were forced to watch it with their significant others.
Pacing is a big downer.
If it had kept the same pace throughout the whole film, I might have been a fan. Maybe I would have wanted to change Mr. Grey just like every girl in the theater.
This movie could have been fun, a la Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke in 9½ weeks or Maggie Gyllenhaal’s Secretary.
In both cases, as I was watching the films, I felt nervous, and I felt a part of the movie the whole time, saying to myself, “Holy Moly!”
Fifty Shades of Grey did not do that for me; it just made me cringe. I was in a constant state of “meh.” The chemistry between Jaime Dornan and Dakota Johnson is never there.
I never felt like these two characters would act like that in real life. And along with the embarrassingly cheesy dialogue, the movie seems impossible.
What do I remember about the film?
I remember saying to myself, “It’s 2015, for God’s sake, and this film has not pushed the envelope at all.”
Nothing new came from this movie. Nothing groundbreaking jumped out and made the viewer say, “Wow, I will never forget this.”
In my opinion, every movie should strive to be something new, but now that we know that making crappy films about books is a cash cow, Hollywood will keep giving viewers washed-out storylines with subpar performances.
For the one hour and 50 minutes that this film plodded around, all the poor viewers are left to know is that this crappy softcore movie will have sequels.
Rating of this film: “I’m 50 shades of you’re better off watching the SpongeBob sequel.”