Fifty Shades Freed is an actual name of an actual movie.
Based on the following reviews, meanwhile, it also may be the best part of said movie.
The final installment of a much-maligned trilogy, Fifty Shades Freed once again stars Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan, as the actors have a lot of rough sex and get engaged in a lot of ridiculous plot machinations.
Just how terrible is Fifty Shades Freed?
Scroll down to read the most scathing reviews!
Entertainment Weekly, Chris Nashawaty The thriller plot with Hyde is wafer thin. So director James Foley (yes, the same James Foley who somehow once directed Glengarry Glen Ross and then apparently lost a bet with Satan) appeals to our collective weakness for materialistic envy with ritzy mountain vacations, bubble baths, and visits to the infamous Red Room of Pain. As an actress, Johnson sells all of this hooey better than Dornan, who, three films in, hasn’t gotten much better as an actor.
Vulture, Emily Yoshida [These films] look more out of step with the times than ever. As the trilogy goes out, more desperate than ever to convince us it was in on the joke all along, it’s hard to say exactly what the joke was.
The Guardian, Benjamin Lee The dialogue just exists. Its purpose is to slowly edge the feather-light plot forward rather than provide any depth or humor to any interaction. There’s more of an attempt here to add the loose outline of a thriller narrative to occupy the scenes when they’re not having boring sex but it’s of the daytime soap variety (at one point a character gets kidnapped outside a gym). There’s never any real danger or real emotion or real anything here, to be honest, it’s as if it’s playing in the background, and no one involved can be bothered to add color or life or even a frisson of passion.
The Wrap, Anna Hartley Although it tries to hide it by cramming in fist fights, car chases and kidnapping, “Fifty Shades Freed” suffers from a lack of rhythm, moving from plot point to plot point with as much spontaneity as meal-planning for one’s luxury penthouse household with one’s housekeeper. It’s clichéd, stodgy and overly faithful to the original books. But at the end of the day, who cares?
Collider, Matt Goldberg There’s a lot I could tolerate with these movies—the fact that they worship at the altar of wealth and confuse gratuitous displays of money with love (I know Christian can whisk Ana away to Aspen whenever he wants, but I’d be shocked if he knew the title of her favorite book); that Dornan and Johnson clearly despise each other (the only scene where they seem to have any connection is one where Ana and Christian are angrily yelling at each other); and that the sex scenes are bland because there’s no chemistry between the actors. But I draw the line at trying to normalize someone like Christian without ever forcing him to change his behavior.
The Telegraph, Robbie Collin This is a film in which one of the more emotionally detailed performances is given by a product-placement Audi.
The Detroit News, Adam Graham There are unintentional laughs in the plodding, clunky story, but the biggest laugh is the one this series has had on the audience for three movies.
ReelViews, James Berardinelli The sex scenes are strangely mechanical and devoid of passion. It’s probably a mixture of three things: directorial decisions, a lack of chemistry between the leads, and viewer apathy.
Rolling Stone, Peter Travers Two hours of cruel and unusual punishment . The zero-star rating may be too kind.
ScreenRant, Molly Freeman Fifty Shades Freed brings the E.L. James’ book-based trilogy to its climax with plenty of sex, overwrought drama, and unintentional humor.
MovieFreak, Sara Michelle Fetters It’s easy to get the feeling the two actors would rather be anywhere else than standing there trying to look romantic while ensnarled in another’s arms.
ComingSoon.Net, Joshua Starnes The best that can be said of the whole thing is that there won’t be any more
Globe and Mail, Kate Taylor Did someone say “freed” already? Yes, please. Red. Red. Red.
CNN, Brian Lowry There’s plenty of artfully-lit airbrushed sex – and unintended guffaws – for those with a taste for midnight-movie-style chewy badness. Otherwise, the safe word should be “avoid.”