Am I the last woman on Earth who has not read the steamy “Fifty Shades of Grey” novels? Am I the only person with zero interest in seeing the film opening today?
Surely not, but it can feel that way, given the media madness over a fictional account of a billionaire, a young, impressionable woman and a room full of sadomasochistic “toys.”
(Insert creeped-out shudder here.)
And the bondage-based film is out just in time for Valentine’s Day.
(Insert second creeped-out shudder here.)
You don’t have to have read the book trilogy to know a lot of the details, given the hubbub it created and the mass swooning by women across the globe. Maybe I need to turn in my girl card; I stand immune to the siren song of romance via sexual dominance and submission.
Clearly, I’m at a disadvantage talking books and film I’ve not read nor seen. Still, the novel mostly was trashed by literary critics, and film reviewers ditto the sentiment. (Page E7).
In fairness, bodice-ripper, romance/erotica novels never have been my thing. Of course, not everyone likes the kinds of books I enjoy – Stephen King-penned horror and crime thrillers, all of which can be seriously graphic in their own genres.
Still, I’m baffled by the “Grey” allure, particularly with the soccer mom set. Talking heads can debate what such a following for a dominance/submission-based story says about the state of female empowerment. But this female will empower her right to forgo the books and film, not just because of the creepy shudder-inducing theme, but also, frankly, because they just don’t sound very well done.
Reach Scene editor Pat Clark at firstname.lastname@example.org.