Fifty Shades Freed

Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey (Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan) tie the knot and make a go at wedded bliss. Trouble is, former employee Jack Hyde (Eric Johnson) has his mind set on destroying their bond through multiple attempts at sabotage and psycho stalkery. Meanwhile, Christian, the cryptic, mysterious, and domineering is tested by Anna who is just coming in to her own, gaining confidence in her own powers as a woman. Oh the strains of a tangled dance of dominance and subservience, who’s really calling the shots? And, what’s this about a baby, that’ll put a new strain on the mysterious red room for sure. Directed by James Foley with screenplay by Niall Leonard based loosely on the source material of E.L. James. This purported “climax” to the story of Seattle’s untamed millionaire continues to roll eyes with impossibly bad dialogue and scripting, ending subplots of old and starting subplots of new with wild abandon offering little resolution to anything. Further, the overall supermarket pulp flavor hangs in the air to cast a green stench over what could have been, one supposes to some this might seem racy, but, it doesn’t take a careful eye to discern crap erotica from quality. And, as if to question who this film is targeted at, the distinct lack of full male nudity in the face of near total and exposed female nudity does raise a few eyebrows. Beefed up with a soundtrack that actually doesn’t totally bomb and the scoring work of Danny Elfman there are some redeeming qualities here. But, ending abruptly with a runtime well under two hours, this final push seems to end premature to say the least, at least we were spared a little? Fifty Shades Freed is rated R, because boobs.