I don’t just mean “trailer” because it’s trashy.
I mean there’ve been like 50 trailers already.
Finally, I caved and watched the latest – with the parts of my eyes that weren’t rolling.
I’ve gotta say, they really effed up a potentially good thing – and I feel like it’s mostly to do with the casting choices. With a book that’s sold so many copies, couldn’t they have afforded to be less disappointing? Particularly in their choice of these characters whose essence within the book are resonant enough to make them iconic figures among the sex starved cougars and milfs of the world? I don’t get it.
The actress who plays Anastasia comes off as frumpy, bookish, and meek – and not in an interesting, “let’s crack open this pensive piece of sexy and find out her daddy issues” kinda way, either. Sometimes the whole shy reserved flower thing works in films; but it takes a real X-factor quality to make that fly. Here, it just reeks of the kind of insecurity you see in pubescent high schoolers – the type that’s thoroughgoing – from style of dress to voice to body language. Although I feel like she’s trying to go for that raspy ScarJo voice (and even a few of her facial expresssions) throughout this whole thing, it just makes me want ScarJo isntead. I’m sure this actress I’ve never heard of once in my life is a lovely person in real life. But within the context of this movie, something about her just feels like what I’d imagine Joan Cusack as an awkward teenager would be like. And that’s because they’re ignoring the Hollywood rule for makeunder-ing: you’ve gotta start with someone who has a coruscating charisma level before you do the downgrade. That’s not just me being superficial either. Charlize Theron had zero trace of her original sexy in “Monster”.
Yet, I was more glued to her performance than old lady asses will be to theater seats once 50 Shades comes out. Anastasia’s role has none of that – which is bad enough – but then there’s the main male character we’re all supposed to get bondage-fantasy turned on by. And don’t. While he’s not a bad looking guy, there’s something about him that leaves me just as luke-warm as the chick does. What is it? Is it his stocky build? His unconvincing attempt at a penetratively glaring fetishist – which falls short and just ends up looking like paper bag boy from “American Beauty”? Or is it the fact that I was initially told that pantydropper Jackson Teller was gonna be portraying the part of a bondage heartthrob? And that that titillating hope was the only reason I even knew a movie about this exists?
I think that’s it. The fact that we were all trolled into thinking Charlie Hunnam was gonna be playing Grey. As much as I didn’t want to see this film, I’ll be honest: I totally would have if the president of the motorcycle club had been the lead, wielding a whip in a G.Q. suit.
This would have been smart for two reasons. The first is that because Anastasia’s character is so loathsomely layered in insecurity, we wouldn’t mind seeing her get slapped around a bit. Also, it’d work well for that matching-game our brains like to play on us – because the carry-over-qualities from the T.V. show Hunnam does wouldn’t be a far reach (as counterintuitive as that seems, hear me out). Especially now that it’s Sons of Anarchy’s last season, this would’ve been a doubly smart move – casting him by any means necessary. The chick audience still wants more – and the character traits between Christian and Jackson aren’t as different as you’d think. There’s that “sweet with a mean streak” theme that would translate nicely for femme-tertainment purposes. I mean, we’ve seen him stabbing people in the skull and plucking out eyeballs like Beatrix Kiddo one moment and then cuddling with his firstborn and being magnanimous to alley hookers the next. If that doesn’t fulfill the “caring caveman” biological desire scholars describe as a basis for this fantasy genre, I dunno what does.
In the end, this twisted li’l fairytale’s not my cuppa tea. I almost wish it was, so I could understand what’s exciting everyone on my Facebook newsfeed. Something about the teaser just feels like a diet version of something else (maybe the book itself? If I’d read it?). There’s no part of me that’s aroused by it. Even the dark corners of my soul that awaken when I see or hear something horrible, gut wrenching, or gory lay dormant. And that’s not surprising – when it’s evident they’re making so many trailers because the real deal’s gonna be some straight-to-Lifetime-channel quality that feels like scratching an itch with a feather.
So, there’s my preview review. I probably won’t rent out any cerebral storage space to this flick when it’s released because the snooze-level is strong with this one already. But I did watch the trailer and this is my review in a nutshell: that at least if Charlie had starred in it, I’d have respected it for its inception level BDSM of tying my emotions up against my will and making me watch his glorious grizzled man body and face and hair for two hours of my life in a piece of drivel I really don’t wanna be witnessing. That would have been some life-imitating-art level shiz. Instead, I’m just so let down that I can’t help but hate the real thing which can never measure up to what could’ve been.
(Yes. This is what I’d do all day if I were Chuck, too.)
Which is basically me waiting for the DVD to come out.
And buying it.
And playing it on mute like we all did with Britney Spears’ music videos in the 90’s.