Butcher Fifty Shades: “Knusktørt in the notch” – Dagsavisen

Movies

2

Drama

‘Fifty Shades fax menu”

Director: James Foley

united STATES – 2016

the Week’s other go about a mentally unstable, orphaned billionaire with forpliktelsesfobi had been much easier to tolerate if it were made with Lego blocks. It would also have made the actors much more vivid. This liksomerotiske reprisesendingen emphasizes that Christian Grey is simply not some Bruce Wayne, and unfortunately no sadomasochistisk Batman. Just a lot of boring version of Patrick Bateman. An exquisite klysete, dominant, humorbefridd, inedible selvhøytidelig, awful sjarmløs, sickly jealous, sosiopatisk sadist – and that is what all women want, according to “Twilight”-entusiasten E. L. James. In any case, as long as he has a snasen penthouseleilighet, lystbåt and all the money in the entire world. I would like to see the same story, only with Christian Gray as a førtidspensjonert søppeltømmer with little bedsit. “Fifty Shades of disability insurance”, for example. Instead, we must be satisf ied with the “Fifty Shades fax menu”; the cinematic motsvarigheten to be the breeze in the bath with a box of cheap pappvin while skumbadboblene evaporerer, duftlysene go out and the water gradually becomes colder.

The filthy rich, sexual sadisten Christian Grey (Jamie Dornan) and his submissive your doormat Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson) goes through exactly the same cycle as in the “Fifty Shades of Grey”, but now she has taken the psychological upper hand. Christian is willing to let leketøyene in the red room støve down for as long as Anastasia moves into luxury apartment is his, and perhaps marry. He gives her a box full of Apple products and 24.000 dollars, so why not make a new attempt to get this completely healthy relationship between two equal partners to act? In the meantime, she is being harassed by his new boss at the bokforlaget, pursued by an unstable girl from christian’s sexual past and plagued by the overripe MILF-the one who introduced him to the S/M world (played by Kim Basinger, who made all of this much better for the over thirty years ago in “9 ½ Weeks”. Occasionally drag Anastasia to the ero tikkens extreme point of development by engaging in a little light dasking her ass and the occasional fingerpuling in the elevator. They also go on a chaste “Eyes Wide Shut”-inspired costume party once, just to emphasize that this film has not a single original thought in that empty little head of his. Everything ends in a seething climax where Christian take Anastasia to the kink.com-the bunker in San Francisco, where she gets to run itself properly. No, I’m kidding only. It had taken himself out (also, the Kink-headquarters closed for a couple of weeks ago). So instead we get a climax in which Anastasia blasts all of their sexual limits by taking on øyebind and handcuffs while the Christian make out in a little baby oil on her tits. Provokative issues, really.

Everything is about as sensual as morning gymnastics in

the indremisjonen, but in the name of justice screw this sequel up the temperature a few degrees. Dakota Johnson taking part in a contract-fortified toppløsscener, while Jamie Dornan has negotiated to show helsestudiostussen its whole two times. This is not exactly the kind of movie actors thank yes to for reasons other than the economy and karriereeksponering, so it is hardly fair to point out that the leading roles tackles the task with a resignation that gets Kristen stewart’s Bella to seem bubbly enthusiastic. Johnson and Dornan have zero chemistry, and seems constantly sad over having to share scenes together. In an attempt to jazz up the mood is the soundtrack teppebombet with bedriten samlebånds-pulemusikk from, among others, Nicki Minaj, Anderson East, Kygo and the queen of sexual promiscuity: Taylor Swift. Already a good candidate for the year’s worst music tra cks. I can hardly remember to have seen a film with less progress, lower the bet and flatter dialogue. The story moves barely a millimeter in two hours, and ends with a cliffhanger that leads to the third and (hopefully) last film: “Fifty Shades Freed”. It is already fully recorded, and going to the cinema the same time next year. Cheers around and roll me in sugar.

Producer and writer (I use the word “author” in its very broadest sense) E. L. James has this time left the task as screenwriter to the spillefilmdebutanten Niall Leonard. He happens to be her husband. That E. L. James has taken an active part in the development of these films is probably a big part of the reason why they are as they are. Director James Foley does regardless of what he is paid to do, and not much more than he must. The film is at least in focus, the cameras are aimed the right way and the scenes are edited together in the correct order. In better times directed the poor Foley solid dramas such as “at Close Range” (1986) and “Glengarry Glen Ross” (1992), but he has not made a film in ten years, and was probably the job of filmatisere “Fifty Shades fax menu” after a couple of pages with other names was deleted from the list. It is still easy to imagine that more skilled profes sionals could have breathed a little life into this source material. Just think what a guy like Paul Verhoeven, Gaspar or David Fincher could have done with this place and free rein. Instead, we must be satisfied with a stusslig studioprodukt with a questionable undertone and absolutely zero purpose beyond making money of those who bought one of litteraturhistoriens at least well-written romantrilogier. For all part. If all of this can get middle-aged housewives in the Midwest to pull out some sex toys during their monthly enjoy playing with her husband, so happy for me. But it is difficult to imagine that the “Fifty Shades fax menu” will elicit much more than yawn and hånlige flir.

ESPEN SVENNINGSEN RAMBØL