Fifty Shades of Meh

FIFTY SHADES OF GREY.
Big deal.
I see that every time I stand naked in front of the bathroom mirror.

So the big horn-dog fest of 2015 is about to hit multiplex screens around the world and the seats will be filled with moist soccer moms around the globe, all over-flowing with latent desires rising to the surface begging to be released in the frenzied battle cry:

"WHIP ME! BEAT ME! MAKE ME WRITE BAD CHECKS!"

In the meantime, their significant others are home enjoying a fapathon on their laptops while checking out the latest on NipSlip.com.

Well, one person's erotica is another's Skinamax. What ever gets the job done. At least it's a pretty much of a lock that folks is goin' to get busy after the final credits roll, probably even more so than after the book's publication, at least initially. Perhaps there's even a new Baby Boom on the horizon. Let's check back next year at this time. There could be a lovely married couple pushing a stroller around Trader Joe's, introducing their young 'un to everyone in the cheese section.
"This is our son, Mr. Grey."

This movie will be good for the economy too. Necktie sales will spike to an all-time high. Home Depot will reap the benefits when couples will be building their walk-in dungeons right off their family rooms. Unfortunately, Tampax won't be able to reap the benefits of the greatest product placement of all time since a key element from the book was cut from the film. Here's a portion of that scene in question.

FIFTY SHADES is actually nothing new, y'all. It's basically a re-booty of the 1986 Adrian Lyne spankapalaooza 91/2 WEEKS (1986). Jamie Dornan is basically a blander, more handsome, but less creepy version of Mickey Rourke. (Check out Dornan in the TV show THE FALL for another version of the same character) Dakota Johnson is certainly no Kim Basinger, but I guess that's what really separates the two movies. SHADES is more a generic female fantasy, hence the blah heroine. In the trailer, when she meets the mysterious Mr. Grey, she almost comes off like Agnes Gooch.

These fantasies aren't just the domain of women. I myself have had lifelong attractions to what might be considered dominatrix archetypes. Diana Rigg's Mrs. Rigg rocked my young boat in her leather jumpsuit on the old AVENGERS TV show. She still stirs up my innards, but only from the early years. I don't exactly want to see her in that get-up at her current age. And I think Carrie Ann Moss in THE MATRIX is Mrs. Peel's heir apparent.


Sure, these are fanboy fueled desires, hence the importance of costuming. 99% of us would go running in the opposite direction if we encountered these leather-clad hotties in real life. But we're talking fantasies here, right? Who else are you expecting me to drool over? Nurse Diesel?

Anyway, the  bottom-line is that FIFTY SHADES OF GREY is going to make a fortune, guaranteeing a sequel, several copycats and parodies and will wear out its welcome long before the end of the year.. There will be outcry from those who will decry that this is yet another example of the fall of civilization while others will be happily boffing up a storm until the next day when they are rubbing salve on their rope and rug burns as they try to come up with a new safe word that will be easier to remember next time and won't make you giggle.

Am I going to see this film? Not likely. Besides, I heard it ends on a sad note.
                                                                   
*SPOILER ALERT*

The couple breaks up in the end.

Apparently, he doesn't want to be tied down.

Thank you!

I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your waitresses, but not over a chair...unless it's consensual.

HAPPY BONKING !

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