An atrocity, more kink and originality in a 4 minute pop song by Rihanna than this 125 minute film

Rating: 2/10 (17 February 2015)

You've heard from all the rest, now hear from the best movie site about this year's biggest mistake: Fifty Shades of Grey.
You might be surprised by this fact, but this twenty-something female never read the 50 Shades series by E.L. James. As a member of the novel's target demographic fan base, you know the group that allegedly goes gaga for this crap, let me break it down for you folks out there.
Even if you avoided hearing about Fifty Shades of Grey with a fervent effort, you probably were susceptible to some information about the film and book series. You know, assuming you don't live under a rock or are some survivalist living off the grid while you prepare for the end of the world. So a summary of the film and series is basically unnecessary. There's this meek girl named Anastasia Steele who meets a billionaire named Christian Grey. For some inexplicable reason they are captivated by one another and their lust-affair begins.
Who here has watched porn? For those of you that didn't raise your hand, please skip to the next paragraph. For those of you who did, or should have because you are a liar, then read on. So you know that formula in porn, doesn't matter if its teacher-student, boss-secretary or housewife-handyman the recipe remains the same: BS dialogue to feign a reason for these two (or three) people getting it on and then bam: naked sex city! Nobody actually pays attention to what the porn stars are saying, not even the production companies, because nine times out of ten the video you are watching is free from any one of the known purveyors of this service. Same goes for this trash but rather than lasting about two or three minutes like with porn, it lasts close to forty minutes in the film.
E.L. James wants you to think Christian Grey is this sexual, magnetic and mesmerizing man. You'll have to take James's word for it because there is nothing that actually serves as proof in the Fifty Shades of Grey movie. There is more chemistry between Christian Grey and his suit than with Anastasia Steele. For a film whose whole foundation relies upon the main characters' inherent and undeniable attraction, this is kind of a big deal. From the initial meet-cute, which is just contrived exposition, the rest of the film unravels as the series of far-fetched events that theoretically lead to this, I guess you could call it, relationship.
The character of Christian Grey is just your average billionaire playboy clichÃ©, you know the type, the one that has his name on a building. Jamie Dornan's portrayal is equally uninspired and would've been more effective had it been done by a robot. For anything would have been an improvement to his emotionless and stiff performance. Dakota Johnson's version of Anastasia Steele is purely physical and devoid of feeling. She hunches her shoulders, drops her head and averts her eyes, but she doesn't inhabit the personality or character. Johnson does her best impression of acting, even desperately overacting at times to compensate for her co-star's inability to emote.
So the characters and plot suck, but surely a film about BDSM has to still be entertaining, right? Wrong. Fifty Shades of Grey is about as sexually adventurous and innovative as vanilla yogurt. The audience of the theater I was in was in a fit of giggles because it is so dreadful it is cringe-worthy and awkward. This isn't BDSM, this isn't even kink or fetish, this is just sex: guy on top, holding your hands up above your head sex.
Friends, family, generous guests: I implore you not to waste your time or hard earned money on this garbage. There's more kink in a 4 minute pop song by Rihanna than a 125 minute film based on source material stretching an unimaginable 500 pages, woof. The best thing about the film is the Crazy in Love remix by Beyonce.
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