When the end credits began to roll, I was given a fleeting look by the people sitting next to me in the cinema. They were probably checking to see if I was still alive; such was my horror and, quite frankly, disbelief, I had not moved from the same position for at least an hour. A wide-opened mouth, bulging eyes and clenched fists on the armrests at my sides. No, I was not enamoured with the movie. No, I did not find the scenes of bondage shocking. I had simply lost the will to live.
One might remember a famous novel by a famous author, '1984'. Until I walked out of that movie house, I didn't know what had spurned Orwell's mind in the creation of his dystopian society, but now I have a vague idea. Orwell wasn't afraid of being stalked by the government - he was terrified that future society would become the way it is today.
I'm not referring to high-octane sexual fantasies, because we all have our own desires and it's not my place to judge. No, what Orwell envisaged, surely, is acting so terrible, movies so poorly made and producers so incompetent, that the likes of Hitchcock and Bogart are probably turning in their graves.
With laughter.
Fifty Shades of Grey is a mediocre work by a laughable author of FanFiction, meaning that without the abysmal Twilight series, the TRULY abysmal movie that I have suffered through today could not have existed. Someone get me a DeLorean and a Flux Capacitor; it's time to right a few wrongs.
There is only one sure-fire way to improve this catastrophe and that is, quite literally, with fire. Burn it. Burn it all to ash and spread the cinders across the resting ground of Cthulhu. Without this worthy sacrifice, surely the monster will rise up to wreak havoc upon us deserving mortals.
All in all, I have only one recommendation for the people who will, inevitably, be dragged (ironic term, given the movie) to the cinema/theatre to watch this complete abomination: therapy. Years and years of therapy. But avoid the groups. Once you see Mr. Grey's 'desires' for yourself, you'll probably be afraid to stand in the same room as another human being for, oh, several hundred millennia.
And there's worse to come: rumours talk of a trilogy, to keep things up to speed with the 'books'. What's that sound? Oh, it's just the splatter of the blood I'm currently weeping. I'm sure that's unrelated...
Right? Guys? Oh...
One might remember a famous novel by a famous author, '1984'. Until I walked out of that movie house, I didn't know what had spurned Orwell's mind in the creation of his dystopian society, but now I have a vague idea. Orwell wasn't afraid of being stalked by the government - he was terrified that future society would become the way it is today.
I'm not referring to high-octane sexual fantasies, because we all have our own desires and it's not my place to judge. No, what Orwell envisaged, surely, is acting so terrible, movies so poorly made and producers so incompetent, that the likes of Hitchcock and Bogart are probably turning in their graves.
With laughter.
Fifty Shades of Grey is a mediocre work by a laughable author of FanFiction, meaning that without the abysmal Twilight series, the TRULY abysmal movie that I have suffered through today could not have existed. Someone get me a DeLorean and a Flux Capacitor; it's time to right a few wrongs.
There is only one sure-fire way to improve this catastrophe and that is, quite literally, with fire. Burn it. Burn it all to ash and spread the cinders across the resting ground of Cthulhu. Without this worthy sacrifice, surely the monster will rise up to wreak havoc upon us deserving mortals.
All in all, I have only one recommendation for the people who will, inevitably, be dragged (ironic term, given the movie) to the cinema/theatre to watch this complete abomination: therapy. Years and years of therapy. But avoid the groups. Once you see Mr. Grey's 'desires' for yourself, you'll probably be afraid to stand in the same room as another human being for, oh, several hundred millennia.
And there's worse to come: rumours talk of a trilogy, to keep things up to speed with the 'books'. What's that sound? Oh, it's just the splatter of the blood I'm currently weeping. I'm sure that's unrelated...
Right? Guys? Oh...