FIFTY SHADES OF GREY – The Review

Some of the steamiest sex scenes in the history of cinema are often just that – a wild scene that takes you to an exotic place in that moment. A memorable sex scene though will have a lasting effect on the viewer not just because of the sensual imagery but because the characters and their journey are just as memorable. Take for example the movie INDECENT PROPOSAL. You only remember the sex on the kitchen floor or in the money-covered bed in Vegas because the performances by Demi Moore and Woody Harrelson are so intense. In many ways that is part of the reason why Hollywood sex scenes are often more memorable than just pornography that you can find online. Part of it has to do with our cultural desire to see celebrities exposed; to see them at their most vulnerable. But the other part has to do with “exaggerated sex” vs. “natural sex.” For many the “natural sex” of pornography is too immediate and too direct, while mainstream cinema can show well-known public figures in a simulated but elaborate fantasy. It’s the fantastical element that ignites the interest for many. Both shouldn’t be perceived as “natural” per say, but it’s the intent behind each that separate the two. Most pornography intends to show real scenarios or a form of fantasy based around reality, where the erotic forgery seen in films like BASIC INSTINCT, UNFAITHFUL, and many others is elevated in our minds because of the filmic characters and because these films give the audience more than just the illusion of actors being paid to perform sex.

FIFTY SHADES OF GREY is a partial failure because of this very fact. Even though Mr. Grey is a cinematic fantasy that pines to be remembered, the only thing about this dull and lifeless character that will leave an impression on you after leaving the theater is the image of his washboard abs. Jamie Dornan as the strong and silent, secretly brooding billionaire delivers vacuous dialogue with neither a smirk nor a hint of personality. I don’t entirely blame him for failing to ignite sparks from Kelly Marcel’s poorly written script of E.L. James’ TWILIGHT fan-fiction turned novel, but Dakota Johnson does a much better job with the material. She has a natural screen presence that warms up the cold and grey surroundings. In fact, her adorable and naïve delivery makes some of the more painful lines and jokes easier to digest. The chemistry between them comes and goes. Director Sam Taylor-Johnson spends far too long building tension, which I typically am not against. But considering how wooden and uptight Mr. Grey comes off in these early scenes, it’s a welcome relief once the couple strips off all the clothes and begins their sexual journey. That’s where Taylor-Johnson seems the most comfortable – not to mention why audiences will rush to the theater. The sex scenes are well done and tastefully photographed by Seamus McGarvey. The results are far from steamy, if not maybe a little too vanilla given what I was expecting. Isn’t this stuff supposed to be more racy?

It can’t be the clichéd plot that kept the attention of readers from all over the world; it’s far from inspired. Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson) goes to interview Mr. Grey (Jamie Dornan) for the school’s newspaper one rainy Seattle afternoon. Ana immediately intrigues him. Maybe it’s because this shy and flower-print wearing student isn’t an attractive woman wearing a short and tight fitted grey dress like all of the women who seemingly run Grey House Enterprises. This attraction leads him to stalking her at the hardware store she works at, tracing her location after a drunken phone call from a nightclub, and showing up out of nowhere to a family vacation with her mother. And don’t worry ladies, he wants you to know he “doesn’t do romance.” This sharp dressed guy is quite the catch, am I right? Their relationship continues to blossom as Mr. Grey constantly pressures Ana to sign a contract so that he can have consensual sex with her… that involves rope, whips, and other forms of dominant role playing.

The “steamy” acts that are at the center of FIFTY SHADES are far from the kinkiness typically associated with the world of BDSM; for those unfamiliar with the acronym, it means bondage, dominant, submissive, masochist. Most of what we see though is your standard choreographed Hollywood sex. Unlike some directors who might show the two leads in a series of close-ups that obstruct what the viewer sees – creating just a flurry of skin tones and limbs – Sam Taylor-Johnson thankfully doesn’t try to hide either actor’s body. Their actions and movements are clearly visible, but again, what separates their trysts from your average sex scene would hardly make your grandmother blush. Blindfolds and ice have been used in steamier scenes before, and the peek into Grey’s playroom feels like just that. Different whips, plugs, and floggers can be seen but are hardly used. I know that this is just the first in a series of books so I can only assume these toys might come into play later on in the eventual sequels. In the meantime, I couldn’t help but see their non-inclusion here as Hollywood once again showing how prudish they really are.

We learn later in the film that Mr. Grey is nurturing past childhood memories of abuse through his desire for pleasure and pain. This desire wouldn’t be such a problem if the story didn’t try to place meaning or give an excuse for his actions by giving us the old “well that’s why he’s like that” story. Forcing the audience to equate mistreatment and abuse – especially criminal abuse since it was by someone much older than him while he was a minor – to the desire to be a dominant sex partner creates a grey area that many in the BDSM community will take issue with. Not all “doms” or “subs” come from a background of abuse, and for the “book of the month” soccer moms who come to a film like this with little to no knowledge on the subject, they are now exposed to the reckless insinuation that the book’s author presents. And this isn’t the only way James’ novel misrepresents the world of BDSM. Having Grey come across as a stalking and persistent shadow, constantly harping on Ana to sign the contract, gives off the idea that he will soon have all the power and that she’s this weak victim. When in reality, in most “dom/sub” relationships it is actually the submissive that has all the power. She would be the one who gives him the power; she would be the one to masculate him but only through her strength and willingness to be temporarily free of her own power – not the other way around. It’s a mutual respect and trust that goes beyond just a piece of paper with guidelines typed on it. Watch the 2002 film SECRETARY starring Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader to see what I mean. Sure, in the bedroom Grey is nice and concerned about her well being (as a dominant should be), but to show the relationship as one-sided as the film does could lead those interested or new to this sort of fun into a potentially dangerous situation.

In the end, even with all the script and story issues and its misrepresentation of cultural aspects within a sexual community, FIFTY SHADES is still the most sex we’ve seen from a major studio film at the multiplex in quite some time. That’s not a bad thing. It’s a dumb escapist sex fantasy, but if it is a step towards stopping Hollywood and the general public to continue to view sex as a taboo subject (especially compared to our acceptance of violence in our entertainment), than that may not be a bad thing. Let the fans of the books enjoy their fantasies, and maybe if this GREY phenomenon continues to grow something better or at least more memorable might come along.

Overall rating: 2 out 5

FIFTY SHADES OF GREY is now playing everywhere