Unofficially titled, "So, Can I Spank You or What?,""Fifty Shades of Grey" largely consists of Christian Grey (Jamie Dornan) trying to convince the absurdly named Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson) to indulge the dominant/submissive fetish of which he's half-ashamed. Much of this involves pressuring her to sign a contract, as nothing's more erotic than paperwork. On a related note, this film likely will be the only time critics ask their editors if they can use the term "[bleep] [bleeping]" in print.
OK, I didn't ask. There's no way we can run it. Hint: The first word refers to something below your back, and the second word refers to something you do with your closed hand.
The film, of course, comes from the first book in E.L. James mega-selling trilogy, which began as "Twilight" fan fiction. I haven't read either series, but the crossover is evident not just in the Washington-state setting but in the persistent, hungry saluting of a young woman with no identifiable personality. As for brains, Anastasia has to be told that her research should include an Internet search for "submissive." Perhaps the super-rich Christian, a vaguely conceived, commitment-phobic businessman who never does any work, enjoys post-sex piano playing and seems like his favorite movie is "American Psycho," fawns over this reserved college senior because she's already seen his "playroom" and didn't run when his response to, "Are you going to make love to me now?" was, "I don't make love. I [bleep]. Hard."
Those who hope "Fifty Shades of Grey" will anchor a steamy Valentine's Day weekend will be disappointed; less a breathless tale of sexual awakening than an awkward, clinical demonstration of the need for sexual compatibility, this is not an arousing movie. Director Sam Taylor-Johnson ("Nowhere Boy") never lets viewers into the intensity of what the characters feel by, say, showing only a black screen with the sound of Christian's toys on Anastasia's skin to mimic her perspective when blindfolded. Um, is it hot in here?
Yes, they have some sex. Big deal. The kink is light and the chemistry's nonexistent-not helped by lip-biting enthusiast Anastasia's blank indifference toward Christian's stalking and Dornan (who is English and looks like Penn Badgley) playing Christian like a European sociopath unsuccessfully attempting to pass as American. Johnson ("The Social Network"), meanwhile, survives a part that seems to have sent bigger stars running in the opposite direction. "Grey" won't be her "Showgirls."
Yet even compared to the lame "The Boy Next Door," which also included a ridiculous bit about a classic book's first edition, "Fifty Shades of Grey" sadly is light on unintentional laughs. ("I would like to [bleep] you into the middle of next week" is this movie's "I love your mother's cookies.") Little onscreen is as funny as Kelly Marcel's only other big-screen writing credit being "Saving Mr. Banks." Ultimately, the plodding "Grey" just leaves you with a question you don't want to ask after a movie or after sex: Is that it?
1.5 stars (out of four)
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