‘Fifty Shades’ of an awful vortex of nothingness

I’VE been thoroughly enjoying the worldwide reaction to ‘Fifty Shades Freed’, which has been unfavourable to put it mildly.

The film’s awfulness has at least kept film critics busy trying to outdo each another in the field of wonderfully caustic put-downs.

First in the firing line was the film’s star Jamie Dornan, whose performance as Christian Grey apparently leaves much to be desired.

Dornan has “the charisma of a dinner plate and the acting acumen of a corpse” the ‘Pajiba’ website reported, while Benjamin Lee at the ‘Guardian’ described his performance as an “energysucking vortex of nothingness”.

Over at ‘The Atlantic’, reviewer Christopher Orr warned that the movie was a disastrous waste of time: “It is far worse than the first movie [‘Fifty Shades Of Grey’] – which, though awful, in hindsight looks like ‘Citizen Kane’ only with more discussion of dildos.”

If that’s true, the new instalment must be hellish: I was forced to watch the first in the cinema, on an assignment for this paper.

The consumer-porn-gloss treatment of an abusive relationship was so staggeringly awful it beggars belief they made two more.

This latest and final instalment of the ‘romance’ between a creepy, petulant man-child and his doltish, walkover paramour was released as a Valentine’s Day treat for women, but honestly, I’d take the petrol-station Love Hearts over a trip to the cinema to see Christian Grey and his red room of pain any day of the week.