For a movie that’s supposed to be about BDSM, “Fifty Shades of Darker” is more like ROFL.
Sure, it flirts with bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism. But it never takes a real risk. And its soap-opera melodramatics are more likely to leave you giggling than gasping.
The novels began as daydreaming “Twilight” fan-fiction and still play like it on screen, with cardboard characters and crude cliches. She is Anastasia Steele, the sheltered booklover. He is Christian Grey, the brooding billionaire with a “red room of pain.”
They ended their kinky affair at the end of the last film, but now for no good reason, it’s back on – and so are their R-rated rendezvous, complete with slutty underwear, adult-only toys and more leather straps and liniment than a Hunterdon County horse show.
But for all the sexy dares and secret spankings, there’s never a blush on any of Ana’s cheeks. In fact there’s little danger, heat or passion in this film at all. It’s 50 shades of beige.
The problem isn’t that the story traffics in wish-fulfillment fantasies and high-end product porn (or at least it shouldn’t be – men’s movies, from Bond pictures to superhero adventures, do it all the time, and get a pass from mostly male reviewers).
No, it’s that there aren’t any interesting characters here, or noticeable dramatic conflict. Hell, there’s barely any plot. Just various scenes of the two leads getting horizontal, or vertical, while pop songs pound away on the soundtrack, and director James Foley – who once made movies like “Glengarry Glen Ross” – mechanically moves things along.
Oh there’s some dialogue in-between the carnal coupling, I guess. And Dakota Johnson tries hard – or, at least harder than Jamie Dornan, who mostly acts with his stubble. But what do these two people even see in each other? What ties them together? For a movie about bondage, the stars seem strangely disconnected.
And since there’s nothing really going on between them, the plot gets busy throwing a lot of soap-opera distractions at us, including a stalker ex, a sleazeball boss (called Mr. Hyde, no less) and an appearance by Christian’s sexual mentor, an older woman played by Kim Basinger.
Basinger still looks great, and at one point I really hoped Mickey Rourke would show up and whisk her away to eat berries in front of a refrigerator again. Their “9 1/2” weeks was kinky S&M trash too, but at least it was gorgeously photographed kinky S&M trash, with every closeup full of ripe curves and dewy sparkle.
“Fifty Shades Darker,” though, looks like a slick, soulless department-store catalog, and all it’s selling us is the same product it’s sold us before — just in slightly different wrapping paper and tied up with somewhat brighter ribbons. And, perhaps, slightly more complicated knots.
Ratings note: The film contains sexual situations, nudity, strong language and violence.
‘Fifty Shades Darker’ (R) Universal (115 min.) Directed by James Foley. With Jamie Dornan, Dakota Johnson. ONE AND A HALF STARS
Stephen Whitty may be reached at stephenjwhitty@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter @stephenwhitty. Find him on <a
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