It is no surprise that ‘Fifty Shades Freed’ – A.K.A. the third and final chapter of the ‘Fifty Shades’ trilogy – is terrible. In fact, it is kind of expected from a trilogy based on ‘Twilight’ fan fiction. We have no one to unfortunately thank than author E.L. James for making porn disguised as an erotic romance involving BDSM. Had 2015’s ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ not been successful, we probably would not have received two more sequels. You might be wondering, why would I see a movie that I know is going to be terrible in the first place? Let’s just say that it is a matter of unfinished business; as they say “It’s a dirty job and somebody’s gotta do it!”
‘Fifty Shades Freed’ starts us up during the wedding of Christian Grey (Jamie Dornan) and Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson), which is supposed to be sweet and heartfelt, but given the past circumstances of the previous installments, is like cheering on a train-wreck (In case you forgot, the relationship between both Christian and Anastasia was a rollercoaster of behavior typical of a stalker with sexual activity thrown in to keep the audience’s hormones raging); and the Grey-Steele train keeps rolling long after the wedding. Anyone who knows toxic relationships knows that it does not stop as soon as the bride and groom say their “I-Dos”. Christian is still the same controlling person he was when starting the contract with Ana; punishing her with handcuffs and whips after “disobeying” him, and wanting her to come straight home after work instead of drinking with her friends.
With ‘Fifty Shades Freed’, everything you expect is there. I should be used to this by now, but that does not justify its crimes against cinema. What makes this final installment worse is how it should not be counted as an actual movie. Ninety percent of this film is fit for porn. If there is not a shot of beautiful locations, or moments that feel like a car commercial (a car chase scene in particular felt like one of those ads featured before the previews), Christian Grey is having a hard time keeping it in his pants. At least in the previous movies, there was a story to branch out the sexual tension; THAT I can admit.
With all that said, I have come to the conclusion that the ‘Fifty Shades’ trilogy is nothing more than guilty pleasure entertainment. It may not be Tommy Wiseau’s ‘The Room’ in terms of so-bad-its-good entertainment, but it has been a pleasure to be tortured by Christian Grey.