Look, I’m all for the “female gaze;” I just wish movies like this would give them something less tedious to gaze at. This finale to the trilogy—based on E. L. James’ bestselling novels—finds Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson) and Christian Grey (Jamie Dornan) just married, and facing the usual newlywed hiccups: deciding whether she’s going to change her name, sorting out their roles, dealing with her dangerously unhinged ex-boss (Eric Johnson). The latter might make it sound like a thriller, but the plot of
Freed takes up somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 minutes of screen time, leaving much of the rest devoted to sexy car chases, sexy hair-washing, sexy ice cream-eating, etc. Johnson remains a standout, giving herself more earnestly to this role than the material deserves and offering a legitimate portrait of a woman demanding equality of every possible kind from her relationship. Mostly though, this is a movie about staring at things lustfully, and not just human bodies. With all their luxurious, well-appointed living spaces and exotic getaways, the
Fifty Shades movies are more lifestyle-porn than porn-porn, more HGTV than BDSM.
By
Scott Renshaw