Fifty Shades of Grey Review - *groans*

With Fifty Shades of Grey box office gross of nearly $600 million, the sequel Fifty Shades Darker would always be creeping into cinemas, thanks to people craving a crafty public wank making the first film adaptation a mint. Boxed Globe will probably not be reviewing the new installment, so instead we subjected ourselves to the 2015 film, such as it is.

Jamie Dornan plays obvious sociopath billionaire Christian Grey, who - after the most awkwardly ludicrous interview that a college newspaper managed to arrange somehow - gradually entices Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson) by harassing her at work and dragging her into his hotel room when she's drunk for her own 'safety'. Regardless of a creepy man buying suspicious items and offering her a formal contract rather than a meaningful relationship, she's game. Grey is an emotionless husk of a man and Steele is an irritatingly naive student. Needless to say, the two leads have in chemistry what Kim Basigner had in money after spending $20 million on a whole town: not a lot. That said, it doesn't take a genius to realise why these two attractive young actors were chosen for a dull film reliant on sex appeal.

The screenplay, such as it is, treads water until these scenes, and contains gems of dialogue lifted presumably straight from the book, which was originally Twilight fan fiction on a Blackberry in case you were curious about the quality. 'How did lines like "I fuck. Hard." and "I'd like to fuck you into the middle of next week." not earn an Adapted Screenplay nomination?' (asks EL James and only EL James). The whole affair is mind-numbingly baffling - statutory rape is played off as passing exposition no one cares about. As Anastasia begins to regret her decisions, the reaction will probably be one of 'well of course it would be like this you muppet'. 

The only saving grace is Seamus McGarvey's cinematography. The man behind Atonement's stunning Dunkirk tracking shot manages to wring out a few neat shots here and there, but find a pound coin in a piggy bank of coppers doesn't make you a rich man. Even Danny Elfman doesn't escape unscathed with a bland score. Low expectations met? You betcha.

ONE STAR. Spare a thought for Kelly Marcel, having to adapt this 'book'.