Before I get into my review I think it’s important to lay down some ground rules. First of all I’ve never read the books; I knew very little of the plot and was seeing the film completely on its own terms. Secondly, I deliberately hadn’t read any reviews beforehand, so as not to influence my expectations. Finally, I didn’t go into Fifty Shades of Grey wanting or expecting to hate it. I think Sam Taylor-Johnson is a very interesting director, the trailers were intriguing and in fact I was curious to see what she had done with E. L. James’ hit novel. And actually I didn’t hate the film. But neither did I like it, because the fact of the matter is, despite all the hype, despite the record-breaking YouTube views, and despite the raunchy source material, Fifty Shades is just a bit dull.

I don’t think this is entirely Taylor-Johnson’s fault, as there were two main obstacles in her way during its production. First of all, it has been widely reported that E. L. James was on set every day and that she had the final say on the film’s script, threatening to tweet her fans to boycott the film if this wasn’t carried through. Getting an author involved can sometimes be a blessing, a good example being J. K. Rowling, who served as a producer for the final two Harry Potter instalments. 

Yet E. L. James’ overbearing control of the project seems to have seriously hampered the film’s chances of success. Her insistence on using the original prose clearly contributed to the film’s clunky and sometimes embarrassing dialogue. Despite Dakota Johnson’s and Jamie Dornan’s best efforts, there are several moments when you can’t help cringing or even laughing out loud at the words coming out of their mouths. What’s more, the script makes the film suffer due to the fact that there is simply too much waffle. Endless scenes of helicopter rides, plane rides and car rides (to name but a few) seriously test one’s patience. The film clocks in at around two hours, but could have easily been cut back to a sharper 100 minutes.

But the biggest restriction looming over Taylor-Johnson was the studio pressure to get an R rating in America. This pressure is luckily non-existent in the UK, as the 18 certificate here carries no stigma and cinemas will more than happily show an 18 rated film so long as it’s economically viable. However, in the US an NC-17 rating, America’s highest certification, is virtually box office cancer, as many cinemas (especially in more conservative states) will refuse to show it. This means that the BDSM-infused sex scenes in the film, while well made, are very tame in their context. You’d expect that a film like Fifty Shades would want the complete opposite reaction: one of shock and disbelief, while being indulgently fun at the same time. But because of certification issues, you’re likely to find sexier scenes in Blue is the Warmest Colour, or more shocking ones in Lars Von Trier’s Nymphomaniac.   

Despite all this, the film is by no means a terrible one. The performances are very good, especially Dakota Johnson’s, whose innocence and subtle humour make her character believable and very watchable. Marcia Gay Harden also reminds us what a fantastic actress she is, more than chewing up the scenery in the few minutes she has on screen. The first half of the film also shows promise; it is fast-paced and a lot more intriguing and playful than the overtly serious second act.

The most frustrating aspect of Fifty Shades is that it could have made a good film; stripped of all outside pressures and influences the filmmakers could have done something genuinely interesting. But instead, one of the most shocking and sexually charged popular novels of the 21st century has been adapted into a frankly dull affair that isn’t worth your time.