she asks as if chloroformed into a Kardashian fairy tale.
Weown this, he replies.
Topless beaches are basked upon.
Credit: Doane Gregory/Universal
Hush…. Do you remember your safe word?
And In the audience, eyes are rolled.
Meanwhile, back in Seattle, theres a break-in at Greys Dr. Evil-like corporate HQ.
E.L. James, 1; Feminism, 0.
The dynamic has changed a bit between these two impossibly photogenic ciphers over the course of James saga.
Anastasia, on the other hand, is bucking at the gilded cage she finds herself trapped in.
The audience I saw this with cracked up the whole time.
And not in the were-uncomfortable-so-lets-nervously-laugh way, but in the can-you-believe-this-is-an-actual-movie forehead-slapping way.
The thriller plot with Hyde is wafer thin.
Sure, he has an underwear models bod, artfully manicured stubble, and intense Blue Steel stares.
He can even sit down at the piano and soulfully belt his way through Paul McCartneys Maybe Im Amazed.
But he still comes off as a daytime soap star who somehow hit the lottery.
Alas, theres also some trouble in paradise.
(Spoiler alert: she does.)
But none of this is very interesting.
Which leaves us with the sex.
They had interchangeable names likeAnimal Instincts,Body Chemistry, andSins of Desire.
Those films werent very good either.
But they at least seemed to embrace their own trashiness without shame.
They had a certain integrity about their awfulnesss.Fifty Shades Freedis certainly slicker than those carnal cheapies.
But it seems embarrassed to embrace its own pervy nature.
Its kitsch that looks in the mirror and deludes itself into thinking it sees art staring back.D+
