- “Let the words flow out of you like rain, and let the flood begin.” Quote from Michelle, Custodaris to Apollo, out of Murdering Eve.
I saw 50 Shades last weekend. Hubby took me for Valentine’s Day, probably banking on a hot night between the sheets when we got home. On the outcome of this, I shall remain silent.
Let me preface by saying I have not read the books. Not because of the typical sour grapes you hear from author-ish types about how “poorly written” they are. I don’t know, don’t care….but you don’t sell 150 million copies of book that isn’t worth reading – and the folks I know who have read the books say, “Oh, but the CHARACTERS are so amazing!”
Since 150 million in sales is something I’m interested in regardless of genre, and considering that Hollywood can usually turn even the worst crapola into something watchable, I figured the movie might tempt me into reading the books. So here’s the verdict:
I still don’t know if I want to read the books.
The movie left me cold. Sorta like this feels….
I expected to, well, feel something. Other than confused about why these 2 liked each other. I get Anastasia’s viewpoint, at least a little…he’s rich and good-looking. But seriously – he’s 50 shades of f*cked up, and they both know it.
Plot, storyline, and characters aside; at minimum, I figured I would at least get turned on a little. I mean, this series set the world on fire and coined the phrase “Mommy Porn”. (which by the way, offends me more than words can say…. if you think I’m being uptight, please read Alison Dickson’s comments about the phrase by clicking on the photo below. She’s dead on.)
Regardless how you feel about 50 Shades from a literary perspective, when you walk into this movie …. AT MINIMUM you expect have your panties singed a little when you walk out of the theater. This did not happen. Not sure who was more bummed: me or hubby. Most of the sex scenes felt awkward. By far, the best part was the soundtrack. I found myself thinking I could embrace a little kink myself if Crazy in Love played in the background. Click the photo for a link to the video… which is HOT. Hotter than the movie, in fact.
As a matter of fact, when the elevator slid closed at the end, I cheered a little. But here’s the thing I CANNOT figure out. I’ve been thinking about this movie for the past few days. The damn thing won’t go away. I can’t decide if I want to read the books to figure out why it’s sticking with me, or if I want to watch the movie again to see if maybe there’s something I missed.
Damn you, EL James. Damn you.