Welcome to Watch Fifty Shades Freed Full Movie Online Previously on “One Bruise at a Time” (a.k.a. the first two “Fifty Shades” outings): Ana and Christian (Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan), our slap-and-tickle surrogates, bonded through bondage and a shared affection for flattering lighting. Now, with “Fifty Shades Freed,” we’ve reached what the publicity notes are pleased to call “the climactic chapter” of this titillation trilogy based on the heavy-breathing novels of E.L. James. If another sequel shows up, though, I’m going to have to use my safe word.
Layering a damp-squib thriller subplot beneath what appears to be an ad campaign for the one-percent lifestyle, the returning director and screenwriter (James Foley and Niall Leonard) test the newly married couple with an inconvenient pregnancy and an unconvincing car chase. There’s an out-of-left-field abduction and a marital tiff over email addresses; but these narrative fragments, lazily tossed together alongside a neglected supporting cast, are no more than a flimsy causeway connecting bonking sessions.
Invariably accompanied by wailing makeout music and sometimes a dairy product, these function simultaneously as the movie’s raison d’être and its creamy topping. Yet with the couple’s power dynamic seemingly settled — he’s a controlling chauvinist, she’s mostly fine with that — the rods and restraints are no longer necessary negotiating tools. Now, it’s just married sex, albeit more rippling and racy than most.
As popular as this window-fogging franchise has become, its flaccid finale is likely critic proof. But if I can persuade just one of you to bypass its milquetoast masochism and watch the stratospherically superior “9 1/2 Weeks” instead, then I will have done my job.
The first half-hour of the movie is The Abuser’s Playbook: Hook a woman by lovebombing her, then gradually isolate her from her friends (when she is reunited with them they are all his friends/family) and train her via denying her freedom and affection to obey his commands. It’s also full of a married couple having hilarious conversations about things any normal couple would have done before getting married: Do they want kids? Will she change her name? And so forth, to the point where Anna really should have heeded some advice given to a more successful celluloid Anna: “You can’t marry someone you’ve just met!”
You can see the movie’s bad fan-fic roots, also, in what it pushes as the end goal for a woman: marriage and kids, preferably to someone wealthy. Who cares if he’s emotionally abusive! I want films for women, but boy howdy, I do not want films for women that perpetuate the incredibly toxic “goal” of meeting a bad boy, fixing him and then marrying him. Psst, girls, you can’t fix ’em. Christian’s ultimate emotional turnaround is so rushed and unearned as to be unbelievable, and the final cut of Anna sitting in the sex room awaiting her master, to her and him lounging on the lawn of their estate with Baby #1 as a toddler and her pregnant with Baby #2 was laughable.
My last problem with the film is probably the biggest underlying issue with the entire production: It’s still shot from the male gaze. We see Johnson’s body more frequently naked than Dornan’s, and filmed much more… appreciatively. The director and crew clearly fell back on the only thing they knew how to do: eroticize the female body, and then have Dornan with his shirt off. All of this is also undercut by Dornan, who clearly doesn’t want to be there, and cinematography that occasionally rises to the dizzying heights of “9 p.m. CW show.”
They don’t know how to film Dornan. Aside from being able to shoot him with a female (or gay male) gaze, they try to show the character’s masculinity and power… by shooting him from a low angle, so he’s high in frame compared to her. The problem is, Dornan has a heavy chin, and it is just the most unflattering angle ever created. They’re using fairly short lenses, too, and the result is just painful. Never shoot a lady from beneath!
Oh, and the soundtrack is overly loud and invasive. Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, it was a fine motion picture.
Abrams: Lee Harvey, I’m intrigued by your comments about foreplay and the general flatness of 50 Shades Freed‘s bad sex scenes. For me, the film lives and dies by how compelling its attempts at either normalizing or just giving its audience an interesting alternative to the usual male gaze-y rom-coms. So the sex scenes are crucial, he said as he held back very mature giggling.
You’re dead-on about the need for better choreography. There are two gratuitous ass shots in the film. I don’t say “gratuitous” in a pejorative sense, that’s just what we’re talking about. It also hasten to note that one of the asses in question belongs to Dornan.
Still, I have never seen two more consistently botched ass shots. You’d think it wouldn’t be hard to hire people who know how to worship or at least properly objectify at least one of the film’s two appealing leads. But then, the film ends with an unflattering low-angle shot of Johnson presenting herself to Dornan’s character. Maybe this shot isn’t meant to appeal to me, but shouldn’t I at least be able to theoretically understand how something like this could be sexy? The damn thing is smashed against marble tile! It’s not flattering!