Friday, February 9, 2018

FILM REVIEW: Fifty Shades Freed (2018)

Directed by James Foley

* *

Yet again, I return to a franchise I have little knowledge of whatsoever, but at least I read the plot synopses on Wikipedia this time. Nonetheless, take everything that follows with a grain of salt. So, I have subjected (and subsequently confounded) myself to the massively popular Fifty Shades saga and its latest and final entry, Fifty Shades Freed. I can’t exactly say I went in with high expectations, considering the saga’s track record (just look at their scores on Rotten Tomatoes).

I won’t be part of the approving crowd, but I will say right off the bat that I was surprised and somewhat taken by Dakota Johnson. I could tell that she gave the character her all, and the result was rather charming (that might be prurient interest talking, though). No matter how much I might have enjoyed her, nothing – nothing – could ever distract me from the one question that raced through my mind for the entire duration of the film – “Just what in the hell does she see in this Christian Grey shmuck?”

Freed opens with the two getting married in an underwhelming and weightless excuse for a wedding scene. Perhaps I would feel a bit more had I seen the previous films, but the scene moves so quickly and is edited in such a way that I seriously thought I was watching a teaser trailer, but I digress. They love each other? Fine. They want to get married? Fine. But the problems that soon follow put these newlyweds in such significant proximity of a divorce I can’t seriously believe there was a compelling romance that preceded.

They go on their honeymoon. At the ocean-side resort, Ana (Johnson) wants her back rubbed with lotion, but Christian (Jamie Dornan) goes laughably overboard with his insecurity – he won’t untie her bikini because to do so would be too revealing. Reminder: she’s on her stomach where her breasts aren’t in public view. They go back home. Ana talks about wanting kids, Christian protests. You really expect me to believe a couple serious enough to get married never once discussed children?

This ineptitude perpetuates throughout Freed, and the result is one of the most pathetic couples I’ve ever seen in a film.

Danger arises, though. There is a break-in at Christian’s corporate office, and the culprit is Jack Hyde (Eric Johnson), a sort of rival to Christian who also longs for Ana, from what I could gather, anyway. Christian is worried about Ana’s safety, always leaving her with a handful of bodyguards while he’s away on business (which is almost all the time). There are some car chases. There’s a break-in at the Greys’ penthouse (which has a legitimately funny line about “restraints”). And then there’s a climax with Jack near the end that ends rather anticlimactically.

You’ve probably taken note of the complete lack of attention or care in my breakdown of these events. I wish I could for the sake of a better review, but I wasn’t given much to work with. Freed is much more concerned with everything in between. Christian goes away on business, comes back; Ana runs her publishing company, has drinks with friends; the Greys and friends go away on vacation, and so on. It is shamelessly superficial with zero substance whatsoever, to the point where I might as well have been watching a blank screen. The clunky pacing just makes this all the more tough to sit through, as you could probably imagine. The sinister shenanigans just pop up once in a while. I could almost hear the film itself saying “Oh, I forgot, all this bad stuff is supposed to be happening.”

I’ve mentioned that Dakota Johnson has something going for her, but everybody else is…ugh. Jamie Dornan has zero charisma or enigma that a character like Christian Grey requires a lot of. Eric Johnson is hilariously bad as the villain, projecting zero menace and giving a performance that rocks back and forth from over-the-top to clearly-doesn’t-care. It really compliments the cardboard character and his phenomenally bad dialogue.

But does the sex at least have anything to offer? After all, the appeal of the Fifty Shades saga seems to come from its steamy kinkiness. Well…at first, they’re treated like the thriller moments in that they just show up once in a while and end before any sexiness can really carry over to the audience. The sex becomes more and more frequent at a bizarre pace, not to mention that the kink factory seems to be there as a token. There are a couple of moments that had potential to be enjoyably titillating (particularly a scene involving ice cream), but they’re all marred by Freed’s sappy soundtrack. Speaking of music, I noticed that Danny Elfman – the same man responsible for the brilliant score for Batman – scored Freed, and I wish I could say more, but none of his talent was present.


While not obscenely bad, it is clear that I didn’t particularly enjoy Fifty Shades Freed. Whether it be fellow critics or those critical of its idea of kinky sex (the latter being a notably common criticism), Freed will probably continue to compel detractors to attempt at steering mainstream audiences away. It is in my confident opinion that the saga will be remembered as only a blip on the radar for years to come, so I say let the people enjoy the series wrap up for now. As for me, purchasing a ticket as a lone single male was an embarrassing experience (especially being only one of two men in the entire audience), but at least I will never have to do it again. 


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