I have seen Fifty Shades of Grey. There were forces in my life which drove me to this decision. A former editor of good ole SonyRumors requested on Twitter that I do a piece entitled “Why You Should Not See ‘Fifty Shades of Grey.'”An intriguing idea for comedy but ultimately putting the cart before the horse because I should not claim an opinion of a film I had not seen. As a statement to understand that I too have biases, let’s be clear: I had no desire to see this film. I never watched/read/partook in any way/shape/form of the Twilight series. And this whilst living mere minutes from Forks, Washington and the rainy areas where the books take place. So fan fiction based on the Twilight series is even less likely to get my attention. The onslaught of mentions the Fifty Shades books received made me twist an eye to the phenom that is pop culture and almost not like it for that reason alone.

It’s two lovers. No, it’s a vase. No, it’s two lovers. It’s a melted vase.

At Barnes and Noble one day, I picked up a copy of the first book and stared at its contents. A young man walked up beside me and did similarly. After thirty seconds he placed said parchment down on table, looked at me, and stated “it’s porn. This is just basically porn.” I could not disagree. Randomly opening a page invariably leads one to a description of some act of underground fornication that even Disney couldn’t hide in the corners of The Little Mermaid. This is to be assumed. This is fan fiction, which is always sexual. This is about as unexpected as flipping to Sean Hannity for any 30 seconds of Obama’s presidency and hearing a dire sentence concerning America’s future. Fan fiction is a type of Harelquin Romance for those who aren’t interested in romance. All fan fiction is like this. Harry Potter re-written for people who probably should stay at home a bit less. The boys of One Direction suddenly engaging in written activities that their name implies no escape from. Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee taking part in…. wait… that one’s real.

So how could I end up seeing this film? What chain of events lead me to such a display of wanton disregard for my snooty perceptions and self-righteousness? I’m not sure it’s a chain of events as much as an energy wave permeating my weekend.  One which started with being put into the “friend zone” by someone I thought I was dating and ended with someone I’ve known for 16 years and lives 2500 miles away declaring we should get married and oh “I’ve started taking prozac, so everything is fine now.” In the middle I saw the Japanese Interment Camp Memorial on Bainbridge Island. A unexpected set of events for sure. And my company on that trip, who put up with this strange energy and the consistent text messaging from my medicated friend, suddenly asked me to go. She wanted to know my reaction. And wanted to read about it later.

The entrance to the internment memorial.

So despite everything I just told you. And how much I am not the target audience. And how I have some natural distaste for this kind of thing. All of that being true. I went. And… God Help Me… I enjoyed it. It reeks of the silliest elements of fan fiction. When Anastasia Steele (a ridiculous name even by movie standards) first accidentally interviews Christian Grey for her friend’s journalism assignment there’s a scene where she bites on the pencil eraser in a obscenely forced moment of supposed absent mindedness that thrust me straight into images of a lonely individual slamming away original thoughts about how much Barney the Dinosaur might enjoy handcuffs.

But beyond that – and once I got past it – I settled down into the awkward story of how a billionaire becomes obsessed with a frumpy girl. There are moments of true humor amidst the awkwardness of their increasingly torrid love affair. He is a broken man with “unique” passions for pain, a distinct fashion sense for grey suits, and a singular focus that turned into business success. This movie truly is fantasy. All the real life 20 something billionaires I know about dress in ill fitting sweaters.

Cause everyone holds their pencil like this.

Anastasia is transformed in what some would call a pseudo-Vertigo way by her obsessed pursuer. But the movie focuses more on how such a man can get in such a way. And Anastasia’s personal interest in the story of Mr. Grey and his secret exploited past is balanced with her desire to explore a crazier side of her sex life. It seems he was taken under the wing of an equally obsessed woman that he consults with to this day. Possibly having wistful remembrances over wine and cheese about the time she ‘gave him that scar.’ And this leads to the central intrigue of the film. Who is he and why is he?

Make no mistake though. This movie is all about sex. Lots of it. With binding contracts of behavior, a red room full of sex toys, and everything else a growing girl needs to get ahead in business (that’s a sarcastic joke by the way). Which is to say, there’s not much of a story. It’s more of a character study. He wants her, she wants him. He’s mysterious. That’s it. The longer it went the more I could not figure out how it would end. Something that has no real story also has no real ending. And then, out of nowhere, it stopped in its tracks with a cliffhanger. Yes. The movie without a cliff ends with a cliff hanger. That is a feat of stupendous skill.

I laughed at the truly intentional humor. I watched fascinated with the subtle human drama. And I was kind of curious about the social commentary such a piece of “art” provides to the rest of us. I do not have the objections to Jamie Dornan’s acting that so many others have.  I don’t worry about the perceived creepiness of how this man treats this women – it’s fan fiction written by a female. I’ve heard the BDSM community thinks the film misrepresents them. Since it’s really just a Twilight fever dream I am not sure how you can object to it misrepresenting anything. It represents what she wanted it to. Fifty Shades of Grey is not a documentary – it’s erotic fantasy.

Watching it I felt worse and worse for each moment I realized I was enjoying my time more and more with this film.

At 125 minutes it feels like 115. I think I was in shock to a certain extent.

How I felt watching.