FIFTY SHADES OF GREY

Fifty Shades Of Grey is one of the most popular novels of all time. It has sold more than 100 million copies worldwide. It is a global phenomenon. And it is the worst book that I have ever (nearly) read – I dropped my copy into the recycling bin around 20 pages in.

The good news is that the film is marginally better.

The story is sparse at best: a wide-eyed female student, Anastasia Steele (played by Dakota Johnson) travels to a modern-day ivory tower to interview stupendously attractive and multi-talented business hotshot, Christian Grey (Jamie Dornan, last seen in British serial killer television drama, The Fall). She likes him, he likes her, she bites her lip (a lot), he flies her around in his helicopter – and they enter into a sadomasochistic relationship, largely played out in his five-star ‘playroom’ sex dungeon.

It’s Mills & Boon for the 21st century; a racy birds-and-bees tale with added fly swats.

My expectations, therefore, were low. And yet while the book, or at least the first 5,000 words of it, left me gurning with its honky dialogue and preposterous imagery, the film version, in the hands of British director Sam Taylor-Johnson, succeeds in giving the tale a little added sparkle. Once or twice, I was actually rather engaged.

Partly this is down to the two leads. Contending with a project that so easily could have descended into laugh-out-loud farce, many actors would have given up the ghost, collapsing into gales of laughter as soon as the props department handed them the first pair of fur-lined handcuffs.

And yet Johnson and Dornan look like they’re here for more than just the, doubtless prodigious, pay cheque. Dornan, in particular, who used to be an underwear model and put in an engaging turn as a psychopath in The Fall, appears to be in his element as a troubled and (wholesome, if such a thing is possible) sadistic master of the universe. He really is quite good.

Some credit should also go to Taylor-Johnson, who succeeds in making the corny credible, and the ‘love’ scenes tolerably watchable. Her lively, atmospheric choice of soundtrack helps things along, too.

It is never, however, high-brow cinema. Few moral or ethical questions are asked of their ultimately abusive relationship, and rarely, if ever, are we treated to anything we haven’t seen before. It is unabashed cliché (cue: yet another lip bite), done reasonably well; a bondage film for prudes.

For the money men, Fifty Shades Of Grey will be a massive success. Indeed, it had one of the highest grossing opening weekends of any 18-rated picture in history – and two sequels reportedly are in the offing.

Those looking for something challenging, daring, exciting, however, will be disappointed. It promises whips and chains and an insight into the darker side of passion, but only really delivers 50 shades of vanilla.