So, as I have divulged previously, I am a reader. I picture the story as a movie in my head and get lost in the words. However, I get nervous when filmmakers decide to cash in on a best seller. Don’t get me wrong, the movies basically raised me. While my parents were working, I was watching movies- yet I just can’t handle a bad adaptation from book to silver screen.
There isÂ one exception: Fifty Shades of Grey. Â Now, I know I wrote about my experience reading it, but I never told you my honest opinion on this work of fiction.
Putting all of Stephen King‘s work aside (because there is no need to explain how his cocaine-infused brilliance could never be depicted in film- you all know the films are a shy comparison), and forgetting how most of the fun plot lines in J.K. Rowling‘s Harry Potter franchise were omitted (where is Peeves?!), I actually put effort into forgetting the horrible prose of E. L. James in the hopes that the movie MIGHT be halfway decent. This would be the ONLY instance where the movie could be better than the book. I was wrong. BOTH are horrible.
It has been a while since I read the books. I read all three of them in a week, with the last book taking the longest. I remember actually wishing it would end, but refused to be a quitter. I read until the end and believe I threw it. Done, I say! Be gone with you forever!
Side note: I have a strange memory, where I remember mundane details that no one else would bother. I’m fantastic as a trivia partner, but it makes it hard to slip anything by me. I know they compare “50” to Twilight, but she literally steals scenes and lines verbatim from the Thomas Crown AffairÂ (circa 1999, not 1968) too. It drove me insane reading it.Â
This morning Brad had to work early, so I decided to get up and be productive. What shall I do today? I shall go see a movie! I saw that there was a 10:05am viewing of “the film.” Fuck it, I’ll go. I saw Sex and the City and Pitch Perfect by myself, why couldn’t I see this one? I shot a text to Brad- announcing my plans and off I went!
I walk in to the movie theater and immediately feel like a pervert. Instead of going to the teenagers in the little box to buy my ticket, I go to the kiosk. No shame if no one knows, right? Now the thinking begins: do I get popcorn for a 10am movie? I haven’t had breakfast yet, so this counts? I walked towards the ticket-checking chick, who then lets me know that she doesn’t know if it’s good, to which I finish for her “because you are not 17 yet are you?” Inside thought:Â ahhh, I’m old. I’m that old 30something chick going to see the mommy-porn movie and I’m not a mom!Â
I have to say that the previews were better than this movie. There was no chemistry between characters and about 45 minutes in I wanted to leave. I decided to stay. I waited a little longer- this hurts. Â The casting was bad. The acting was “acting” (you know, when you can tell they are acting) and I just wasn’t lost in the movie.Â I didn’t expect to be running out- grasping for Brad to take me after, but I expected to feel something. Nothing. Watching this made me feel bad that Brad wasn’t staring in this movie! Why would I want to watch this cold, young horribly cast character, when I have the real deal at home?
I finally looked at my phone: 12:05! I had sat here for two whole hours and this flick is nowhere near done! I stood up, grabbed my water and left. I will NOW be a quitter with this franchise. This is two hours of my life I cannot get back.
Lesson learned: When every single one of your friends tells you they have no desire to see a movie, listen to them. There is a reason you are sitting in there alone!
I shall now finish my weekend Fifty Shades mortified, ashamed and appreciative that this book is finally behind me.
3 Replies to “fifty shades of horrible.”
Oh my! Your inner-goddess was eating a bowl of popcorn beside you in disappointment in the theater. Perhaps the director could have introduced a stalker, the most interesting part of the series, only to write off the stalker 10 minutes later like the books. Now…more…oh my…weirdness from a guy who was molested and sees a wildly unhelpful therapist who violates all HIPAA rules, no? Perhaps a helicopter crash…only to somehow turn this into…oh my! 5 pages later and Christian wearing some paints that hang on his hips (why don’t his pants ever fit – is he like NWA 20 years late – He just Straight Outta Compton!) Here’s another car, Bella…er, Anastasia…I don’t want you to hurt yourself you sad innocent understated clutsy brunette…Bella…er…Anastasia. My inter-goddess at book two is stopping because she fears another creepy baby with a name that will piss me off.