Seriously.
So for those of you who are lucky duckies and have no clue what I am whining about, Fifty Shades of Grey is a trilogy of books that began their lives as Twilight fan fiction. British author E L James created the BDSM-themed story featuring Edward and Bella and they were released for free, as fan fiction is. But the stories became very popular, to the point there was a convention about this fanfic (!) which raised money for charity. Then E L James took the story, changed only the names of the characters (Bella and Edward become Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey), and published the book through a company that has published similar work in the past. She then got her fans who paid for the convention to buy the book and spread reviews all over the internet, generating buzz and getting fame and money and popularizing the term “Mommy porn”. Yada yada yada, E L James has a ton of money and fame made off of the backs of Stephenie Meyer, and scored more when a company paid seven figures for the rights to reprint the books. And now E L James has even more money, because a gigantic bidding war broke out over the movie rights to her book. As many as 10 studios were fighting hand over fist for the right to bring the Mommy Porn to life on the big screen. And..ding ding…we have a winner! For an estimated $4 million or 5% of gross, Universal Pictures and Focus Features have acquired screen rights to Fifty Shades of Grey and the two sequels, Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed.
So what the hell is going on?
This:
Anastasia on her first blow job:
Hmm…he’s soft and hard at once, like steel encased in velvet, and surprisingly tasty — salty and smooth…he’s my own Christian Grey flavor popsicle.
Anastasia on Christian’s tortured, tortured soul:
“Why don’t you like to be touched?” I whisper, staring up into soft gray eyes.
“Because I’m fifty shades of fucked up, Anastasia.”
Oh…his honestly is completely disarming. I blink up at him.
After her first spanking session:
“Oh baby,” he breathes. “Welcome to my world.”
We lie there, panting together, waiting for our breathing to slow. He gently strokes my hair. I’m on his chest again…boy…I survived. That wasn’t so bad. I’m more stoic than I thought. My inner goddess is prostrate..well at least he’s quiet. Christian nuzzles my hair again, inhaling deeply. “Well done, baby,” he whispers, quiet joy in his voice. His words curl around me like a soft fluffy towel from the Heathman Hotel, and I’m so pleased he’s happy.
This is enough to make you run screaming back to Edward, Bella, Jacob, and the baby he loves, holding them tight and never wanting to let go….
Whose movies are awful now???