Here comes the final chapter in the erotic, repulsive film trilogy based on the Fifty Shades books.
This film — inexplicably popular to the droves of women sure to fill theatres everywhere — isn’t just a terrible outing.
The story of BDSM-obsessed billionaire Christian Grey and his sub relationship with his now-wife Anna isn’t just crass, senseless and incoherent.
No, this film and its predecessors somehow have managed to take a best-selling novel series about whips, chains and blindfolds, and make all of that boring.
It’s a film that focuses less on showing skin and more on plot — but without a screenplay strong enough to justify the move.
It’s an erotic thriller without any speck of true sexual impact, and a romance that delivers more eye-rolls than titillation.
It’s dull, bland, and though the set-pieces and soundtrack work, the fundamentals are too far off.
Even when given the chance to go the distance and surprise, neither stars Jamie Dornan or Dakota Johnson are game enough to create any sort of real spark.
The advertisements told us to ‘prepare for the climax,’ but it’s too bad Fifty Shades Free lands with a muffled thud.