To answer the question above: Don’t be.
The following is a binding review between Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner (heretofore referred to as The Blog) and Fifty Shades of Grey (heretofore referred to as The “Movie”):
1. Let it first be put to record that The Blog didn’t want to do this, but several of The Blog’s friends were drunk on Strawberry Andre when we saw the movie and insisted upon a review. Said friends owe The Blog. A lot.
2. The Blog shall refer to The “Movie” as The “Movie” because doing otherwise would suggest that it is in fact a movie, which is to say a sequence of moving images purporting narrative structure and artistic merit. It is not.
3. The Blog shall not refer to The “Movie” as The Hot Mess, because that would be too easy, and nothing about The “Movie” is easy, most notably watching it.
4. As seen above, the marketing for “Movie” shall tease a kinky fuckfest the likes of which mainstream cinema has not witnessed since Showgirls. Instead, the “Movie” will tell the tale of the blossoming romance between an English major whose poor life choices include being an English major and not buying a decent leave-in conditioner and the Billionaire Slightly Melted Real Doll who stalks her. I mean, loves her. They’ll bump uglies infrequently, but mostly just talk about letting each other in (her into his heart, him into her hooha). They’ll also discuss a contract. A lot.
5. The Blog shall be uncertain as to who the target audience is for The “Movie”, but The Blog will suspect that said audience probably won’t be tickling their clampatches afterwards in enthusiasm. Unless said audience is really into contract law, in which case grab your galoshes, ‘cos here’s a flood a comin’.
6. The Blog shall feel really sorry for Dakota Johnson, because she’s quite charming and likable in The “Movie”, even though her character has blunt bangs and a flip phone, neither of which should be acceptable in the year 2015.
7. The Blog shall appreciate that Marcia Gay Harden is in The “Movie”, even if she’s better than that. Try as she may, Meryl Streep can’t take all the roles.
8. As a side note, The Blog wonders if The “Movie” was offered to Meryl Streep first, and if so, did she refuse because she knew the world wasn’t ready for another She-Devil?
9. The “Movie” features a scene of literal contract negotiation because of course it does. Said contract negotiation includes striking anal fisting from the list of permissible activities because BOOOOOOOOOO. The Blog shall assume Teen Mom‘s Farrah Abraham was unavailable for legal counsel.
10. Towards the very end of The “Movie”, the Blow-Up Doll Pinnochio explains he is “fifty shades of fucked up.” Seattle, it would seem, is swimming in fuck-buddy contract lawyers, but decent therapists are in short, short supply.
11. Much like an overused Jackrabbit, The “Movie” shall only occasionally sputter to life or provide any pleasure. It has the common sense to be intentionally funny sometimes, but the misfortune to be unintentionally funny at most others. It’s too polite to be naughty, too tasteful to be trashy, too neutered to be erotic, too room-temperature to be melodramatic, and too staid to be camp. What it is is a bore, but with a projected weekend box office of $90 million, you had better believe that the sequels are coming, even if you didn’t.
12. The Blog shall advise you, The Reader, that if you Google search “Fifty Shades of Grey poster”, you’ll eventually arrive at this image:
You and your clampatch are welcome.