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Film in Review: 50 Shades of Black

Just the other day, I was asked about the latest cinematic atrocity from Marlon Wayans, Fifty Shades of Black.

“Do you think the whip selection scene was a statement on Hollywood’s obsession with violence and representation towards slavery?”

After a good laugh, I kindly responded, “No. I think Marlon THINKS that’s true, but the meaning of that scene was that Joe Jackson was more violent than slavers.”

It’s possible that within the horrid comedy stylings I witnessed for the longest 90 minutes of my life, something useful and enlightening could be pulled.

It’s a small possibility, sure, but it may exist.

A year ago, almost to the week, I reviewed Fifty Shades of Grey for DIG Magazine. Schmaltzy, sleazy romance aside, the lead performance and clever directing elevated the worst source material imaginable. The book was a sensation, the movie over hyped, why not spoof it?

Why not? Because parody films nowadays are the bottom of the barrel trash, written and performed with equal care. Before it even gets made, you know it’s going to be a trial to watch. Fifty Shades of Black is deplorable, disgusting and despicable gutter diaper crap. Minute after minute, second after second, we are subjected to shear torturous slapstick, embarrassing mugging for the camera, terrible misogyny and scenarios that may have been crafted by Satan himself.

And I’m only talking about the opening sequences.

The movie manages to reach lower depths ever so quickly, starting from the point of having already fallen from a cliff, yet it never crashes its body into the ground with the sweet smack of justice. It never will. It’s an endless void from which escape or release is impossible. It. Just. Goes. On. Forever. Getting. Worse. And at the speed in which it gets worse, you may find yourself vomiting on the popcorn you refused to eat out of protest.

Allow me to go over some of the movie’s “finer” moments:

An obese gangsta wannabe white tramp complains, at length, about her vaginal STD.

She holds a cold compress between her legs while discussing getting pounded in the bedroom.

Marlon Wayans as Christian Black, a businessman who steals expensive cars, suits and even purses. This is a recurring theme is his movies.

Christian lies about putting on a condom, then has quick unprotected sex, and then tricks his lover into taking a morning after pill.

The constant tongue play and licking faces and noises.

Honestly, I COULD go on, but that might be heading into spoiler territory if you care about that in this instance.

Is there something we can learn or glean from Fifty Shades of Black? That may depend on person to person, but some things WILL be lost from watching it. Things like dignity, peace and, more importantly, your money. You’ll not only be $10 or so short, but you’ll have voted with your wallet for more movies like this. Unless, of course, you were one of a few in the theater watching it, in which case your vote doesn’t matter. Let’s hope for such a horrible thing.


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