“Fifty Shades:” The Slug Review

Come celebrate 30 years!

By Klax Zlubzecon

Translated by George Hyde

I am a true monster. An amoral, sick, twisted monster. One of the most abhorrent, evil beings on the planet.

And I say all of this because I forced George to spend $12 on a ticket to “Fifty Shades of Grey,” a piece of abusive dreck, that’s offensive and also one of the most horribly written films George or I have ever seen.

A while back, George wrote a scathing review for “Transformers: Age of Extinction,” in which he stated that seeing it embarrassed every fiber of his being. He went to that movie in disguise, and he desperately turned off his phone — not because that’s what people typically do during films, but because he was worried someone else would identify him through an open Facebook page on it. He did not want to be seen watching that movie, and now I feel remorse for not having him do the same this time.

As readers know, I am asexual and aromantic, so I naturally didn’t find the film very arousing. But the thing is, George definitely is romantic and — well, I wouldn’t say he isn’t sexual — and he didn’t find the film arousing either. Nobody in the audience did.

It’s become obvious that the novel “Fifty Shades of Grey,” while still being a poorly written clump of wasted tree, is still a hit for its rather explicit sexual content. I have never read it, and neither has George. His friends have heavily advised against reading it, saying that it portrays a highly graphic, abusive relationship wherein Grey, the man, frequently deploys psychological tactics against Ana, the woman, to ensure sexy times for both. And when I ordered the ticket on Fandango, that warning should have been a huge red flag — because for all the neutering that the MPAA has enforced on the film’s sexual content, the abusive content remains intact.

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What happens in the movie is not kinky, risque BDSM sex. That’s what the marketing wants you to believe. George and I have friends who tell us that there’s a huge difference between what “Fifty Shades” calls BDSM and what BDSM actually is.

BDSM is what takes place between two consenting individuals (CONSENT being the big, capitalized word here) who want to get a little dominant, submissive and frankly, a bit nasty. And that’s fine! If people find it arousing, good for them. But one thing they would never do is refuse to show any love or support afterwards, which, surprise, is Christian Grey in a nutshell.

There are many ways that Grey manipulates poor Ana, but what I want to touch on in particular is the contract.

He makes her follow a contract detailing what exactly she will wear, eat, drink, lick, touch, speak to, look at, breath on, listen to or smell at all times in and out of Grey’s “playroom,” as he calls it. She never explicitly signs this contract, but Grey enforces it anyway. When she wants to visit family, there he is stalking her and setting up a hotel room even though she’s staying with her mother. When she tells him to buzz off, he breaks in to her room and rapes her.

Oh, but it’s okay, because she enjoyed it. That counts as consent, right?

It’s disgusting. I, as a brain slug, am offended that anyone would ever consider violating someone else’s free will for the sake of entertaining the masses. I never!

I haven’t even started on the film’s writing, which is on a whole new level of uncomfortable. I’m sure the film improves on the novel’s writing in at least some moments, but it’s still awful. It feels like a poorly written “Twilight” fan fiction, which it actually started out as.

And as I type, this offensive, badly written and glorified story of an abusive relationship is now one of the highest-grossing R-rated films of all time.

There’s nothing more I can say. I’ve lost faith in the human race before, but this is another huge drop. I can at least pray that a lot of those tickets were bought out of irony or purchased by snarky, guffawing jokers who want to ruin everyone else’s sexy time. And you know what? I’d join them, if I could get away not paying more money to the Comcast machine that provided this piece of offensive trash.

Glorifying mental manipulation — ha! What a trashy thing to do to a human. I would never do such a thing.

 

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. EMBRACE THE SEAWOLF SLUG.