The pornification of Hollywood

“…With Fifty Shades, Hollywood has put big money, talent, and the promise of sequels into a story where the sex goes far further into the realm of kink than the usual choreographed wrestling under wind-blown sheets with body doubles. And while the trajectory of James’ trilogy of books takes Ana and Christian out of the bedroom through an outlandish thriller on their way to domesticating young Mr. Grey and delivering home, hearth, and family by the finale, Christian’s well-accessorized “red room of pain” is now a spot on Hollywood’s backdrop next to Charles Foster Kane’s warehouse and Rhett and Scarlett’s staircase.

What hasn’t been discussed, though, is the simple fact that no one watches porn for the story while no one really watches a movie for the sex. With Fifty Shades, we have a film that, production values aside, is as dreary and rote as the most pretentious ventures in plot-heavy ‘70s eurosleaze like The Story of O – a film that Fifty Shades resembles in no small part.”

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