Duh, although no one seems to notice but that cranky subordinate Liz.(More on her later.) One could almost imagine having a deeper, subversive level, in which the wildly rich, constantly self-indulgent Ana and Christian are the villains, and their many lower-income foils and employees are the heroes.Or you can get back into your shit-colored car and drive back to Seattle.” It’s genuinely head-spinning how quickly Ana has changed her mind on the whole surname question and gone from Nice Girl Next Door to Nasty Entitled Rich Person. Christian is so impressed with Ana’s transformation that he allows her to drive the car. Ana offers to give him a haircut and asks where the scissors are. Christian, concerned about the possible threat from Jack, makes Ana promise to come directly home from work while he’s out of town.
Ana shows up at work at the publishing house that exists to imply that she has a “job” even though she almost never seems to perform it.
There she learns that she has been promoted to “fiction editor.” A subordinate, Liz (of course: a woman), tartly points out that the promotion occurred despite the fact that “you weren’t even here.”11a.
Alas, their vows are heartbreakingly conventional: “I promise to love, trust, and protect you”; “I give you my hand and my heart, for as long as we both shall live.” Boo! After some dancing, Christian tells Ana, “Let’s get out of here. Christian, still peeved that Ana disobeyed him re: toplessness, pulls out handcuffs. Once again, it appears that she has no recollection of the previous two movies. A female subordinate of Christian’s calls to tell him that someone broke into his company’s “server room” and detonated an “explosive device.” Watching the security footage, Ana recognizes the intruder as Jack Hyde (Eric Johnson), the former boss who attacked her and was essentially fired by Christian. Back at Christian’s penthouse apartment in Seattle, Ana meets the staff and is flabbergasted at the question of how she wishes to “run the household.” I swear she was unconscious throughout the first two movies. Ana dismisses the cook for the night because she wants to make dinner.
Where are the references to domination and submission, to flogging and spanking, to the Red Room? I’m sick of sharing you with all the riff-raff.” Not to get all class warrior here, but that may not be the best phrase for a billionaire to throw around with his now billionaire-by-marriage wife. Christian whisks Ana to the airport, where a private jet is waiting. Is there a roofie subtext to the whole trilogy that is never made explicit? Christian: “I could get used to you in the kitchen.” Ana: “Barefoot and pregnant?
” Christian is obviously nonplussed by this response, and it doesn’t appear that it’s over Ana’s possible neglect of footwear.
This is what in introductory screenwriting classes is called .11.
One says, “You better restrain him.” The other replies: “I don’t have anything.” Ana announces: “We do.” This is the high point of the movie so far, and perhaps the only intentionally comic moment of the series to date. It’s worth noting that Jack, whose only job that we’re aware of was as a fiction editor, has essentially become a super-criminal, capable of penetrating extensive security to attack Christian’s corporate office and very nearly kidnap his wife.
Keep this in mind the next time you piss off a fiction editor.21.
He explains that this is how he feels when she doesn’t do what he asks. Ana and Christian puzzle over why Jack (now incarcerated) has been out to get them.
Once again, does anyone remember the previous movie, in which they had him fired for sexual assault, effectively ending his career? Ana is back at work when Christian shows up unannounced.