Cinquante Nuances plus sombres

Cela commence comme un logiciel OK pour les dames - un fil conducteur presque invisible, juste pour maintenir ensemble les scènes torrides, servies toutes les 15 minutes. Nous sommes donc, disons, deux étoiles, voire trois si vous ne vous êtes pas bien occupé depuis longtemps. Et puis viennent les développements de l'intrigue, où le film commence à se prendre très au sérieux. Et un déluge d'explosions de rires et de femmes (!) dans la salle. Vraiment bien pire que ce que vous auriez imaginé, bien pire que le premier volet. Si mauvais, que peu de choses sont aussi mauvaises dans les cinémas en général. (07/02/2017)

Je me réjouissais des frissons qu’allait me procurer ce thriller, mais en fin de compte, c’est avec un frisson de déception que je me retrouve. Dommage qu’on a encore accordé si peu d’espace à Rita Ora. C’est tout ; il n’y a rien de plus à dire. (13/02/2018)

Le titre devrait être « 117 minutes d’ennui ». La seule chose qui vaut la peine d’être regardée est le corps de Jamie Dornan, et même cela ne parvient pas à sauver le film. J’aimerais voir Dakota Johnson ailleurs, dans un rôle plus profond, parce que son jeu d’actrice me plaît, il est tellement décontracté et naturel. Je veux bien regarder un film sans prétention de temps en temps, mais là, c’était du grand n’importe quoi. Le premier volet était plus divertissant d’une étoile… (22/04/2017)

The problem with Fifty Shades Darker is not that it doesn’t know when to end, but that it never properly starts. An essential tenet of screenwriting is that without conflict, there is no drama. Niall Leonard is apparently unaware of this. The popular statement that “nothing happens in it” applies to such an extent to few other films. Any attempt at suspense or plot twists thus comes across as unintentional comedy because of its lack of substance. Both of the protagonists do basically the same things that they did in the first instalment, though one would think that this time it is a voluntary decision on Ana’s part (she didn't know before that sex doesn’t have to be painful), which is only half true (when, for example, she tells her partner what to do to her). Grey continues to act like a faithless, possessive emotional manipulator who again lays out the rules of the game and doesn’t give much choice to his ingenuous partner, who likes to be bought a big bouquet of roses, a set of Apple products and luxury lingerie. As a result, moments that should seem romantic are actually rather creepy, because we don’t see any sincere feelings behind them. It’s also quite difficult to sympathise with the female protagonist, who has Ben Wa balls inserted into her vagina and only then asks what they are for. The adjective “vanilla” applies less to the central couple’s relationship than to the film as a whole, in which the unfortunate lack of knowing winks at the viewer prevents it from being an expression of self-reflection or an act of subversion (which, I'm afraid, should not have been a scene like something out of Magic Mike). Though the narrative of the first instalment was marked by a similar ponderousness, I found it generally thought-provoking on a deeper level of meaning. The second film is just a sequence of pretty but completely hollow shots that barely hold together (on the other hand, it’s possible that I’m just too annoyed by the film to give it any further thought). It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a similarly arrogant wager on the certainty that the target audience, longing to see a bit of harmless “kinky fuckery”, will come to the cinema anyway. 30% (08/02/2017)

Probably the only sequel of a successful movie that perfectly transformed the proven rule of "more of everything" into "less of everything". The characters are templates, the dialogues are random clusters of words, the eroticism has one new idea for every ten routine numbers. If Jamie Dornan weren't obviously suffering from his presence in the skin of Mr. Grey, even I wouldn't forgive putting up with the laziest script far and wide. (27/05/2017)