The Cutprice Guignol

May 12, 2016

Fifty Shades Darker: Chapter Six

Aaaaaand we’re back. There’s been some kind of glitch in the Matrix where I live in Scotland, so I’ve spent this week basking on riverbanks and drinking alcoholic ginger beer like some sort of boozy Famous Five. But alas, the good times must come to an end, and Fifty Shades Darker beckons me back to it’s doom-filled bosom once again. We left off last week with- Oh God, this chapter opens with a sex scene. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse.

Christian and Ana are getting down to the dirty, as they never stop doing, after Christian showed Ana where it was and wasn’t okay to touch him on his body.

“Boy, I want him inside me, now.”

BOW HOWDY MISTA. Why does Ana’s inner monologue sound like a cheeky fifties schoolboy asking for candy? Her nipples grow hard and “elongate” under his touch which, um, isn’t how any of this works, but alright.

““You’re so wet.” His voice is filled with wonder.”

And once again, doubt is cast over whether Christian has ever actually aroused a woman before. She goes on top, and is lost to a void of pleasure etc (seriously, the flowery sex language is so jarring that I’m not sure how anyone isn’t distracted enough to get aroused)

“Up and down . . . again and again . . . Oh yes . . .”.

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Yup, try and keep it in your panties, ladies, because I know we’re all squirting like broken fire hydrants right now.

““My Ana,” he mouths.

“Yes,” I rasp. “Always.””

Rasping: the sexist noise, and certainly not just the one I spent the last week making because I have a fucking chest infection. Just picture the scene: Christian mouthing shit at Ana like one ear hasn’t popped yet, while she replies in a voice that sounds like that guy who sang Roxanne in Moulin Rouge.

They come, and literally half a page later Christian starts on this:

““All those boys pursuing you—that isn’t enough of a clue?”

“Boys? What boys?”

“You want the list?” Christian frowns. “The photographer, he’s crazy about you, that boy in the hardware store, your roommate’s older brother. Your boss,” he adds bitterly.

“Oh, Christian, that’s just not true.”

“Trust me. They want you. They want what’s mine.””

Hitting it early today.

They’re still cuddling in bed at this point. He’s literally just pulled out of her, and he’s already starting with the “WEH WEH BOYS FANCY YOU AND IT’S NOT FAIR” malarkey again. How unreasonably pathetic is that? If Christian Grey is an “alpha” then I’d hate to see what a “beta” comprises of. A literal pile of goo that accuses you of friendzoning?

Also, why is he getting pissed at Ana for this? It’s not her fault people find her attractive, though God knows why. This is one of the nastiest parts of Christian possesiveness; treating Ana as if the reactions of other people are her fault (remember in the first book when he threw a hissy over Jose calling her?). This isn’t Ana’s problem, it’s Christian’s, but of course he’s making it her fault because he’s a fucking man-child who can’t face up to any of his own faults. Also strange: Ana denying these men were into her. She knows they were- she ackowledged it in the first book. It’s just character inconsistency, but it feels a lot like Ana backtracking to try and assuage Christian’s anger at her, which is some nasty bullshit.

Christian takes off the condom and drops it on the floor- which is completely fucking disgusting, by the way- and then he just threatens Ana’s bodily autonomy a little, you know, pillow chat:

““I hate those things. I’ve a good mind to call Dr. Greene around to give you a shot.””

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A contraceptive shot, to be clear, not that Ana has ever expressed a desire for one. We gloss straight over that, and Ana touches him some more in his “allowed” zones, and then they fuck (off-screen, mercifully).

We cut to Ana in the shower, and she’s thinking about Mrs Robinson-and she actually gets angry for a bit, cursing her out for taking advantage of a child and fucking him up even further, which is about time. Then she gets out of the shower and puts on some sexy clothes for the event she’s attending with Christian and his family that evening, which is way more important, and Christian comes in and ogles her some.

He’s got some vibrating sexy-time balls, and suggests Ana put them up herself while they go out to the big masked ball that they’re off to. Look. I don’t know what you’re into, but the thought of having a vibrator up me for the duration of a family gathering doesn’t really get me hot. What if they fell out? Or someone heard the vibrating? Or I had an uncontrollable, screeching orgasm in the middle of dinner? Considering Ana’s “every time the wind changes” orgasm control, I’m surprised this hasn’t crossed Christian’s mind.

Pictured: Ana’s orgasm after someone leans over her to get something.

Ana agress, and Christian inserts the balls (ugh, not alright), and they head off. Ana spends two full paragraphs talking about her great she looks- “worthy of the red carpet”- because she’s sooooo modest and mousy and doesn’t think she’s worthy of Christian at all. Christian tells her she looks stunning as they’re going to leave, and for some reason this pisses me off:

“I flush at this compliment in front of Taylor and the other men.”

Because if it was in front of other women, she would be gloating that she was the prettiest. For some reason, Christian goes to show Ana his library which, as a student of English Literature, HE NEVER THOUGH TO SHOW HER BEFORE. They finally get in the car and go.

Christian gets Ana all hot and bothered in the car, and tells her what to expect from the event- rich people, fancy dresses, etc. They arrive, and apparently the papparazzi recognise Christian despite his mask because of his “copper hair”. This is interesting to me, because this is the colour of copper:

natcopper – and I don’t recall Jamie Dornan’s hair being that ginger in the movies at all. Why the discrimination against gingers, movie industry? Moving on.

They bump into Christian’s sister Mia, who introduces Ana to her friends. Of course, they’re jealous of the fact she snagged the indisuptably amazing Christian Grey:

““Of course we all thought Christian was gay,” she says snidely, concealing her rancor with a large, fake smile.

Mia pouts at her.

“Lily, behave yourself. It’s obvious he has excellent taste in women. He was waiting for the right one to come along, and it wasn’t you!””

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Yes, it was ~~EL James~~ Ana you wanton harlot! She’s the prettiest and the smartest and has the hottest boyfriend SO THERE!

Ana meets some other people at the party, and one of them mentions that her company is being bought out- and Ana internally notes that it’s Christian behind it all, or, in her words, “a stalker par excellence”. Again, this stalker stuff: right there in the text. I’m not pulling this from nowhere, you know.

She’s introduced to his grandparents, and we get some more random woman-bashing, because God forbid we miss one opportunity:

“Mrs. Trevelyan is all over me like a rash.”

Nice. That’s someone’s Gran, you cunt. They put some money in envelopes, and we take half a page out to regurgitate the menu, which sounds…fine, I guess. They eat dinner, and Ana comments internally on how loud Mia is and how Christian’s grandmother is too nasty to her husband. A waitress stops by- but not just any waitress, one who has the audacity to have met Christian before! Ana snarks on her hair, and acts pleased when Christian doesn’t acknowledge her.

Mmm, yeah, your rampant insecurity, baby, so sexy, much hot. These two shits deserve each other- they’re like a couple of fifteen-year-olds throwing vague Facebook statuses at each other whenever one of them so much as glances at someone else. Is Ana actually being worse than Christian in this chapter? Not far off. Why does Ana hate all women who cross her path? Why is that considered a desirable trait in a leading lady? Is internalized misogyny not a thing EL James is aware of as a concept, or is she just so deeply entrenched in it she can’t do anything but write it into her characters?

Many questions.

Ana goes to the bathroom to take out the sexy-time balls, and they return to the table.The prizes for the auction take up another half-page and Ana winds up bidding the $24,000 Christian forced on her a few chapters ago on a weekend at Christian’s family’s property in Aspen, and wins. And…that’s the end of the most insecure chapter of all time!

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May 10, 2016

Captain America: Civil Bore

What a beautiful day it was yesterday; the sun was shining, birds were probably tweeting somewhere, and the cat had stopped yowling for five minutes so I could get some work done. So off I strolled- without a jacket, which is the first time I’ve risked stepping outside in this godforsaken country without out in about nine years- to see a movie, because it was that kind of day. And that movie was Captain America: Civil War.

I must admit, I was pretty intrigued by the premise of this film- after years of the Avengers leaving fatal and catastrophic collateral damage behind most of their escapades, the governments of the world want to hold them to account. Some of the team is for the idea, while others are against in, causing a schism that bubbles over into violence and genuine animosity. It’s a “who-watches-the-watchman” idea that spices up Marvel’s usual punches-quips-cameos structure, and it looked as if it could be at least a new take on what we’d seen previously.

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And I guess, in some ways, it was. All those elements were in the film, it’s just that they were lost under a staggeringly overfull two-and-a-half hours of movie. While Civil War was aeons better than the now-legendarily awful Batman vs Superman, it suffered from a lot of the same problems as it’s DC contemporary-mainly, that it was a lot of set-up for other movies, and didn’t feel like a movie with it’s own specific identity in the way the previous Captain America movies have.

For one, I think it’s a little disingenous to call this a “Captain America” movie, when it was far more a team-up film than anything else. While, yes, the film did take a left turn around the second act to involve Captain America and his ongoing Bucky plot, there was simply too much else going on for this to really be all about him. In fact, with a huge chunk of the emotional arc and the actual plot of the movie revolving around Tony Stark (including some flashback sequences featuring a distressingly convincing young Robert Downey Junior), I half-felt as if I’d been conned into seeing the new Iron Man movie instead.

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And then, of course, there were a couple of other major characters introduced in this movie- Black Panther and Spiderman. Now, as someone with a passing acquaintance with comic books, I knew plenty about Spiderman (because he’s impossible to avoid as a pop cultural icon) and next to nothing about Black Panther, and I’m sure I wasn’t alone in this. The movie, however, decided to treat us to a ten-minute detour explaining Spiderman’s backstory, location, and powers, while Black Panther was brushed off with…two lines about what his suit was made from?

I understand that Marvel have a Black Panther movie to sell and don’t want to give away too much here, but they gave an uninitiated viewer like me next to nothing to work with, even though I very much enjoyed Chadwick Boseman’s performance in the role. It felt like a cop-out- a promise that I’ll get to find out more if I pay money to see his movie, which I pretty much consider cheating. They don’t have to give away everything, but slightly more than we got-especially in comparison to the time spent meticulously introducing Spiderman- would have added something, and led to me spending less time going “so, has he got superpowers or is it the suit or…?”

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On top of the time taken out of the movie to bring in these new characters, the film also raked up pretty much every other superhero they’ve ever put to celluliod in the last ten years- Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner’s slimy presence on-screen did little to improve his already pish character), Ant-Man, War Machine, Falcon, Black Widow, Vision, Scarlet Witch, and many more I’m probably forgetting, for the big second-act clash. Which was all fine and good, but felt like it was taking place in another movie- not the Captain America movie I’d been promised. In fact, much of the film felt sliced down the middle, with one plot dealing with the tearing apart of the Avengers (the plot I was actually interested in), and the other cobbling together a bunch of shit about Hydra and supersoldiers and Bucky’s past that felt strongly first-drafty while trying to string the two together with mixed success.

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That plot benefitted from a great villain in the form of Daniel Bruhl, who seems to be Hollywood’s stock ambiguously-European-antagonist guy for the time being, but even still, the film was forced to switch up the pace to whiplash levels by the third act just to get everything done by the time the credits rolled. Much of the time, it felt as if it just wasn’t time for another team-up Avengers movie yet, so they were just going to have to grit their teeth, roll up their sleeves, and get everything set up in this Captain America outing.

Add to this the fact that Sebastian Stan was actually required to act in this movie, and revealed quite unequivocally that he couldn’t, and the whole thing is only just holding together at the seams. In comparison to this year’s other big superhero outing, Civil War is pretty solid- but in some ways, Marvel were lucky to be following on from one of the biggest disasters the genre’s ever seen, because I’ve got a feeling we wouldn’t be quite so happy giving a pass to this bloated, confused mess otherwise.

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May 8, 2016

Sexy Costumes, Agency, and Video Games

So, in the last few days, I’ve been permanently ill, hungover, or both, and thus spending a lot of time in bed trying to find things to distract myself with. I ended up diving down a Mass Effect rabbit-hole-Let’s Plays, op-eds, you name it- and was looking at some pieces about the ME series as a feminist and/or sexist text (there’s a lot of interesting writing on this topic, if that’s your thing). And I also came across a few rebuttals to the accusations of sexist, pandering representations of female-presenting characters that ran along a familiar path of argument: if women in real life presented themselves the way these women did, it wouldn’t be considered sexism. So why is it a bad thing when women in video games do it?

This is an argument I’ve had many, many, many times with various people, and it usually starts with the criticism of something a-usually female-character has been dressed in. Since we’re on the subject of Mass Effect, let’s use their character Jack as an example. In the game, Jack’s outfit looks like this:

Which, since you mention it, is indeed basically a tiny bikini and a bunch of cool tattoos. Now, in the arc of the game, she chose to present herself like this for reasonably well-articulated reasons, and many people argue that since she, and characters like her, made the decision to present themselves in such a way, they can’t be sexist. They used their agency to just happen upon presenting themselves in an often aggressively sexual fashion. And yes, in real life, if someone were to make the decision to express themselves by wearing the outfit Jack wears, that would entirely fine/empowering- and in game, she is making that choice herself. But the crucial difference is that no characters-male, female, whatever- actually have no agency over their representations in pop culture. Jack has no say over what she looks like in the real world- and it’s interesting that so many creators choose to present their characters in this hyper-sexualised fashion.

I think it can be pretty easy to dismiss costumes like this,

or this,

as something that the character would really wear, based on their traits and how they express themselves in other aspects of their characterization. However, the key difference here is that-and this is going to sound patronizingly obvious, but bear with me here-they don’t have any agency over how they present themselves. Somewhere down the line- whether they started from the ridiculous costume and worked backwards, or found the skimpy outfit arising naturally from the other parts of the character they were creating-someone behind the scenes decided that the best way to fully get across this character’s personality was to put them in an explicitly sexualised outfit-especially when you consider that a lot of the time, NPCs will appear in one skin or costume.

That was how they wanted the character presented to the world. The character has no agency over the way they look, and you have to wonder why so many of these characters end up in hyper-sexualised clothing, chosen specifically by their creators. These characters may have been written in such a way that such an outfit made sense. There’s nothing wrong with video game characters who dress it an overtly sexualised fashion. In a vacumn. But when characters, and particularly female characters, are constantly and repeatedly represented this way, it’s fair to ask why. Why was that important? Weren’t there better things to spend time on that finding a way to justify throwing a hot women a skimpy top? Would the character been impacted in some negative way if she wasn’t dressed like that? Because that barely-supportive top really doesn’t look fit for purpose most of the time.

Obviously this isn’t an across-the-board criticism of the whole industry, but I seem to keep coming across it in my mild dalliances with the gaming world, and it gets a little annoying. It feels like these games are pandering to a very specific audience, which they are welcome to do- they are welcome to court whoever they want, however patronizingly and unsubtley they want to. But it’s ridiculous to pretend that these characters look they way they do because they wanted to. Because fictional characters don’t get a say in whether they get dressed up in the badass armour or the tiny bikini. Again.

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May 4, 2016

On Trigger Warnings

So, a few months ago, a couple of friends and I were discussing safe spaces and trigger warnings. One of them mentioned a post he’d seen on social media, which displayed an image of someone holding a knife to their arm, and he snortingly described a comment from someone asking that it be tagged with a “trigger warning” for people who self-harm. And then he saw my expression of apologetic “I’m going to disagree with you quite a bit here”, and realized it was going to be an awkward five minutes.

I know damn well that the concepts of “trigger warnings” and “safe spaces” have become a dogwhistle term for overly sensitive social justice warriors and all kinds of apparently swooning lefties who can’t so much hear the word “fat” without keeling over into a weeping pile of mush- or so most of the internet would have you believe, anyway. And I know a lot of you reading this may well fall on the “pull yourself together, you can’t be protected from every little thing that bothers you” side of the scale. And I know I can only talk about this from my own perspective (ie, dealing with self-harm), but indulge me a few minutes while I try to explain why these concepts are perhaps not the ridiculous pandering you might think they are.

As I have written about before, for me, self-harm is an addiction. Which means that it’s never really been something I’ve “recovered” from- it’s still there lurking away at the back of mind most every day, and I would say not a full hour goes by where my brain doesn’t shout “DO IT YOU PUSSY” at me. For the vast majority of these incidences, I can snuff out those kinds of thoughts pretty quickly, because they usual come from nowhere-there’s nothing backing them up and making them legitimate. These thoughts just sort of slither to the front of my head, and, finding nothing to hook on to, then slither off again a few seconds later.

Sometimes, I might be scrolling through social media of some kind- maybe even come across an article like the one my friend mentioned- and see an image of someone injuring themselves, or see pictures of self-harm scars, or whatever it might be. Again, most of the time, I can see this images and brush straight by them. But if seeing an image like that happens to match up with a moment or period of time when my brain is pushing for me to harm myself again, it’s like someone has yanked the concept to the front of my brain and nail-gunned it there. It’s hard to explain the singularity my brain locks into when I want to hurt myself, but it’s kind of the same feeling I get when I’m walking home in the rain carrying a heavy bag- that internal promise that it’ll be done soon, and then I can relax. I find it difficult to shake these thoughts without actually acting on them, else they just sit and leach at the back of my head for hours or days or weeks.

As I’ve said before, mental illness works differently for everyone, so some people who self-harm (or suffer from other forms of potentially triggerable illness, like PTSD) might find themselves absolutely fine looking at these images. Which is great for them. But for me, and people who react similarly to difficult reminders of things they’d rather not think about, putting a trigger warning on something isn’t there to pander to my agonizingly delicate sensibilities; it’s something that gives me the choice to opt out of seeing or watching or reading something that might tip my brain upside down. I understand that if you don’t find anything in particular “triggering”, the concept might seem like cotton-wool wrapping the world, and you’re welcome to continue arguing that it is. But for me, it’s just a promise that I get to choose whether or not to carry on my day like a normal person, and I appreciate the effort.

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May 2, 2016

Fifty Shades Darker Recaps: Chapter Five

Things are going to be a little quiet on the blogging front this week, as I’ve just moved house and everything is stressful and basically internet-free. I imagine Christian and Ana would be boggled to hear that I waited three and a half years to move in with my boyfriend, as opposed to falling FOREVER IN LOVE after two weeks and swapping various bits of product placement every five pages.

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So, we left off last week with Christian and Ana having the most boring sex in all of history, finishing up with Christian taking Ana to a salon where Mrs Robinson- his molestor- works.

Ana asks a staff member her name and who she is, and snorts about he being a paedo. Look, she’s right- Elena Lincoln (as her real name) is a real piece of shit for taking sexual advantage of a deeply damaged adolescent. Christian returns to Ana after an intimate chat with Mrs Robinson-

““You didn’t want to introduce me?” My voice sounds cold, hard.

His mouth drops open, he looks as if I’ve pulled the rug from under his feet.

“But I thought—”

“For a bright man, sometimes . . .” Words fail me. “I’d like to go, please.””

Yeah, for a bright man with a therapist, it seems really, really odd that he’s keeping around the woman who sexually abused him. Really, really odd. I know we all deal with trauma in different ways, but I feel like any good therapist would be like “NO, NO, GOD NO, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER AND ALSO MAYBE HAVE HER ARRESTED, FUCK NO”. Or, you know, just any person at all with a shred of decency. Fuck, this chapter is so depressing, mainly because no-one except Ana seems keen to call Mrs Robinson what she is, and even then, it’s framed more as sexual jealousy than as genuine disdain for an abuser. But then, we know how Ana feels about abusers, right?

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Ana demands to leave (where did this backbone come from all of a sudden?) and asks if Christian took all his subs there. He replies that he did but that she’s the only one to know that the woman in charge of the salon took sexual advantage of him as a child. So…hurrah for sharing, I guess?

Christian gets an almost hilariously expository phone call, and reveals that Leila left her husband for a man who was recently killed in a car crash. Oh, and that she’s been granted concealed carry liscence with no background checks. Look, I know we Brits think Americans just run around shooting guns in the air willy-nilly like the Rich Texan in the Simpsons, but surely someone with severe mental health problems, a therapist, and a grudge wouldn’t be given a licence without some kind of background check? Either that, or phewwwww I’m glad I don’t live in the states.

We get this nonsense-

““Anastasia, Leila is obviously suffering a psychotic break. I don’t know if it’s you or me she’s after, or what lengths she’s prepared to go to. We’ll go to your place, pick up your things, and you can stay with me until we’ve tracked her down.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“So I can keep you safe.”

“But—”

He glares at me. “You are coming back to my apartment if I have to drag you there by your hair.””

Let’s tick off that threat of violence, just to get it out of the way, and focus on the main thing here- why does Christian want Ana back at his apartment? The apartment Leila has already broken into? Wouldn’t that be putting her in more danger? Oh, wait, this is all just about controlling her, right? Silly me.

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Ana refuses to go back to his apartment, so he throws her over his shoulder like a fucking caveman and goes to carry her. He eventually puts her down, and she starts fuming and making an internal list on everything he’s done wrong;

“1. Shoulder carrying—unacceptable for anyone over the age of six.

2. Taking me to the salon that he owns with his ex-lover—how stupid can he be?

3. The same place he took his submissives—same stupidity at work here.

4. Not even realizing that this was a bad idea—and he’s supposed to be a bright guy.

5. Having crazy ex-girlfriends. Can I blame him for that? I am so furious; yes, I can.

6. Knowing my bank account number—that’s just too stalkery by half.

7. Buying SIP—he’s got more money than sense.

8. Insisting I stay with him—the threat from Leila must be worse than he feared . . .he didn’t mention that yesterday.”

JESUS CHRIST FIFTY SHADES FAN, EL LITERALLY WROTE A LIST OF ALL THE ABUSIVE THINGS HE’S DONE TO ANA. Stalking, emotional and physical manipulation, exerting unhealthy amounts of control…how are you people missing this? Scratch that; how is EL James missing this? She’s WRITING IN THE FUCKING TEXT about how awful he is and how much Ana dislikes him. Remind me why this is a love story for the ages, again? Because he allegedly fucks her good?

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Christian reminds Ana that Leila has a gun now, and she forgets her rage in the worry that he might get hurt and oh God fuck off. They go back to hers, he forces her into the car and doesn’t let her drive, etc. Honestly, I used to get outraged at stuff like this, but there’s so much worse in this chapter alone and I’ve got dinner in the oven, so I’m trying to power through.

Christian mentions that all his submissives were brunuttes, and that Mrs Robinson put him off blondes.

“Did Mrs. Extraordinarily-Glamorous-In- Spite-Of-Being-Old Robinson really put him off blondes?”

Mate, come on. If I showed you a picture of my Mum, you’d rethink those words. I mean, I would, but too many of you would try to vault the Atlantic to get with her over-fifty self, and that would just be awkward when you got brutally rejected. Also, isn’t EL…not exactly young herself? What kind of bullshit self-hating ageism is this?

Christian reveals that Mrs R funded his business start-up with her husband’s money, because she was ” a bored housewife”. Tick off another tired female stereotype on the big board of things wrong with Fifty Shades.

Ana and Christian retire to his apartment, where Ana tells him she’s still mad for what he did. Then she goes upstairs to find that he’s purchased her ludicrously expensive clothes, specifically against her expressed desires. Not that Christian would ever do anything without her consent! For some reason, Ana refers to Christian as “Fifty” almost constantly in this chapter, and it’s jarring on me really, really hard. Maybe because these “fifty shades” she’s referencing are really just hilariously polar swings between furious and a walking erection.

Speaking of which, Ana mentions the clothes to Christian, and brings up the fact that she doesn’t want them. She also wonders why Christian wants her, when he had so many submissives who would do exactly what he wanted without question. He explains:

“”I am used to women doing exactly what I say, when I say, doing exactly what I want. It gets old quickly. There’s something about you, Anastasia, that calls to me on some deep level I don’t understand. It’s a siren’s call. I can’t resist you, and I don’t want to lose you.””

IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN

Yep, even though Christian ignores Ana’s express desires- everything from forcing money that she doesn’t want on her, buying her clothes she asked him not to, and coercing her into sexual activity she doesn’t like- what he actually wants is someone who challenges him by not doing what he wants. Even though he has repeatedly gotten genuinely angry- angry enough to scare Ana-when she doesn’t do as she’s told. Maybe the “fifty shades” thing is meant to reference ALL THE TIMES CHRISTIAN CHANGES HIS FUCKING MIND IN THIS SERIES. Franco, the hairdresser, arrives in a flurry of homophobic stereotypes:

“Franco is small, dark, and gay. I love him.

“Such beautiful hair!” he gushes with an outrageous, probably fake Italian accent. I be the’s from Baltimore or somewhere, but his enthusiasm is infectious.”

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Ah, those gays, always faking accents and being from Baltimore! Christian asks Ana if they can discuss their problems in bed, and she says no:

““Over lunch, then. I’m hungry, and not just for food,” he gives me a salacious smile.

“I am not going to let you dazzle me with your sexpertise.””

…she just told you she doesn’t want to go to bed, and you’re all, “nah, we’re goin’ fuck tho”. At least Ana has some semblance of backbone, even if she is basically going along with everything he wants in this chapter. Just her token protestations are an improvement. They talk about Mrs Robinson some more:

““She can touch you,” I repeat.

He purses his lips. “She knows where.”

“What does that mean?”

He runs both hands through his hair and closes his eyes briefly, as if he’s seeking divine guidance of some kind. He swallows.

“You and I don’t have any rules.”

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I really don’t feel like repeating myself again in this chapter. But they do have rules. Many rules. Just because they’re not written down doesn’t make them void. Christian wants Ana to do everything he says, but also defy him, and let him dress her and pluck her and wax her, but also stand up for herself, and eat when he says, but be an independent woman, and do everything he wants in bed, even though she wants a vanilla relationship. You’re right, though- no rules.

Christian tells Ana that touching is a hard limit for him, which is fair enough. Then she asks him about the fact he knows her bank details- and reassures her that it’s okay, because he runs these kind of invasive background checks on all his submissives. Remember back in the first book, when Ana protests Christian tracking her phone, but he excuses himself by saying that the technology is technically legal? This feels a lot like that. “It’s okay for me to do it because I’ve done it before/it’s not actually against the law!” doesn’t work. He admits that he knew she worked at the hardware store, and that’s why he came by.

““I don’t misuse the information. Anyone can get hold of it if they have half a mind to, Anastasia. To have control—I need information. It’s how I’ve always operated.”

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BUT THERE ARE NO RULES. NO RULES AT ALL. EXCEPT THAT ANA ISN’T ENTITLED TO HER PRIVACY. NO. RULES. NO RULES. NOT ONE. Fuck, this chapter is both boring and exhausting.

Christian tells Ana he makes $100,000 an hour, which is an amount I actually bark-laughed at because it’s so specifically and obviously a lie. Ana goes off to make some food for them, and dances round the kitchen to Crazy in Love, which is a song so, so much better than this book. Seriously, go listen to it, and remind yourself how much you loved that song when it first came out. Don’t think about Ana making an omelette in excruciating detail like I’m being forced to do. Don’t be like me.

Christian walks in, and puts on Nina Simone’s I Put a Spell on You. Not…Annie Lennox’s version? How rude, after she recorded it specifically for your movie. We get this-

“I watch him, enthralled as slowly, like the predator he is, he stalks me in time to the slow sultry beat of the music.”

Welcome back Robert Sheehan, how we all missed you.

They grope at each other for a bit, then Taylor walks in and he and Christian leave for the study. This chapter is so long that I’ve just noticed the stubble on my calves, and I shaved right before I started writing this. Send help.

They eat, and listen to some classical music that Christian can ponce over like Niles fucking Crane (truly, the sexiest man on earth). Ana goes and transfers all her stuff to the new computer, and Christian comes in to find her looking up “multiple personality disorder” online, BECAUSE THAT’S NOTHING BUT A GOOD SIGN.

No time to linger though, as Christian is handing her some lipstick.

“It’s harlot red, not my color at all.”

Yes, for lest we forget, Ana is a virginvirginvirgin and if she so much as wears red lipstick she’ll be sullied for good. It turns out that he wants her to draw on him, so she can know the parts of his body she can touch. I can’t think of anything funnier that drawing plastic-surgery prep marks all over someone’s body, but somehow it leads to banging and mercifully, the chapter is over.

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April 27, 2016

The Best (And Worst) Season Finales

It’s been a while since I’ve done a straight TV post, so I thought I’d kick back and write about something I’ve been thinking about for a while: season finales. Yeah, I know I’m the only person on the planet whose ever given this more than the length of time it takes to peel an orange, but I need to indulge my sense of whimsy every now and then, what with university being over and real adulthood impending and OH GOD OH FUCK I’M NOT READY TAKE ME BA-

Ahem. Anyway, let’s take a look at some of the best season finales, and cringe over some of the worst ones. Disclaimer: I know that talking about season finales is a pretty touchy subject for The Walking Dead fans at the moment, but I kind of lacked the ending of season six. Sue me.

Best: The End of Time, Doctor Who

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So, I was tossing up between this and The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang-the latter of which I rewatched recently, and remains just as freakishly, madcappingly good as the first time I saw it. But I prefer this one, because it has some real heart mixed up in between all the fantastic bringing-together of plot threads. It’s got John Simm’s unbeatable performance as the Master (much as I love Michelle Gomez, I’ve got to hand this one to the big Simm), an almost painful emotional climax, and a simply tremendous introduction to Matt Smith’s eleventh Doctor (honestly, I thought about this briefly last week, and had to sit down and have a cup of tea to get over how much I want him back). It’s a triumph of the Russel T Davies era and I’ll love it forever for that.

Worst: Sleepy Hollow, Ragnarok

Spoilers ahead for anyone who’s still bothering. I was a big defender of Sleepy Hollow when it first came out- yeah, it had it’s fault, but it was a lot of fun, and it had the fantastic chemistry between Nicole Beharie and Tom Mison to carry it along.Oh, whoops, no it doesn’t, because it fucking killed off half (the black, female half, natch) of it’s leading duo. Fuck it. Fuck it all. It happened weeks ago and I still go into little spasms of rage and wasted potential whenever I think about it.

Best: Hannibal, Mizumono

Hannibal - Season 2

Honestly, Hannibal’s second season is one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life. And this finale- delightfully nicknamed the “Red Dinner”-is one of the most singularly disturbing and beautiful things the show ever did. I don’t want to give too much away because it’s so phenomenal to watch going into it fresh, but be prepared for a genuinely terrifying performance from Mads Mikklesen (my love, my one, my only) and an ending that will have you glad season three is already out. I had to wait a year. A YEAR.

Worst: Doctor Who, Hell Bent

HELL BENT (By Steven Moffat)

Look, I’ve already covered this, but there’s not enough time in the whole of this young and fallow galaxy to cover how much I hate this bit of TV. A calamitously overblown and wildly fustrating hour of one of my favourite shows, the only way I can appropriatley get out my rage regarding it’s existence is by dissapearing to the forest for three days to hunt a lion with nothing but my hands and my wits. It’s always worth mentioning the fact that they resolved a long-running mystery by presumably forgetting about it and scribbling in a resolution in biro at the back of the script ten minutes before shooting, and that none of this is Peter Capaldi’s fault.

Best: Battlestar Galactica, Kobol’s Last Gleaming

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Oh God, I know this show is so far from perfect, but when it pulls episodes like this (and the season one opener, 33) out of the bag, I can forget everything wrong with it (after all, I got half my pen name from one of the characters Battlestar). It’s a hugely ambitious two-parter that matches it’s scale with it’s visuals, throwing a handful of magic performances (Katie Sackhoff, Edward James Olmos, Mary Mcdonnel) into the mix just in case that wasn’t enough. If you’re bored of being told to watch this show, blame this episode.

Worst: American Horror Story, The Seven Wonders

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For reasons that are legitimately beyond me, a bunch of people seem to ADORE the Coven series of AHS. For me, it’s painful dirge; I even gave up recapping the season halfway through because I was so bored and fustrated by the inconsistencies and meandering plotting Murphchuck and co were throwing at us this year. This finale, though? Something special. Not only do they lazily kill off Lily Rabe’s character- who was only mildly interesting in retrospect, but at the time, seemed like a towering literary creation- and then bring Taissa Farmiga’s back, they slap a messy bow on the Jessica Lange plot, repeat a plot point or four, and make Evan Peters and Denis O’Hare-two of those shows mouthiest, best actors- essentially mute for the entire run. Fuck it. Fuck it all. At least Hotel was- oh wait.

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April 25, 2016

Fifty Shades Darker Recaps: Chapter Four

I’m getting this week’s recap out of the way early, as I’ll be moving later this week and who knows what kind of chaos that’s going to instill into my life. We left off with Ana and Christian shagging like bunnies who don’t really have a clear idea of what sex actually comprises of (catch up on the last recap here), and now we’re plunging straight back into chapter four. Prepare for the worst sex scene maybe of all time. Let’s get right to it!

Been having some weird feelings about Robin lord Taylor in Gotham recently, and I plan to work them out in Gif form. Bear with me here.

“As sanity returns, I open my eyes and gaze up into the face of the man I love.”

OH GREAT. I don’t know why, but every time Ana says she loves Christian it pisses me off. In fact, I do know why, and it’s because she says nothing good about him other than that he’s hot and rich. And, as I’ve said many times before, if I’m banging an awful human being who also happens to be hot and rich:

I would bet money on Hannibal being kinkier than Christian Grey, too. And a better cook.

” “Come cook me some food, wench. I’m fam-
ished,” he adds, sitting up suddenly and dragging me with him.[…]

“Wench. Food, now, please.””

DAMN SON. I asked my friend Ellie to get me a glass while she was up when I was visiting last week, and she told me to fuck off and die. If I’d said this to her, she would have stuffed a teatowel down my throat and yanked out my stomach lining. If Ana didn’t immediately get up and fucking do what she was told, this might be pretty funny, but considering his historic disdain for all fucking women, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t trying to be funny at all. Not that we could tell, because Christian’s “jokes” are about on the same level of funny as Seth Macfarlane’s.

Christian finds the crumpled, deflated helicopter balloon under Ana’s pillow, and she tells him she’s been sleeping with it. How the fuck would you ever get any sleep with that fucking crinkling and crackling underneath you? We jump to Ana and Christian eating dinner, and-

“He’s wearing his jeans and his shirt with his just-fucked hair and that’s all.”

Not to pick nits here, but I would consider someone wearing jeans and a shirt fully dressed. I’m also annoyed that we skipped the part where Ana fucked the living crap out of his hair. I would like to know the physics of that.

“I sit cross-legged beside him, eating greedily, beyond hungry, and admire his naked feet.”

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I can’t imagine something I would rather look at less while I’m eating that someone’s gross bare feet, but okay. They talk some about Ana’s mother and her marriages, and then we get back to the fact that Christian brought the company Ana works for. She tells him she’s still mad at him.

“He smiles. “I know but you being mad, baby, wouldn’t stop me.””

I’m using this Gif to signify the worst thing Christian says/does all chapter.

FUCK. ME. SIDEWAYS. So, to be clear for anyone who’s somehow got this far into the recaps and still refers to him as Christian Bae, here is Christian, when Ana tells him that she’s uncomfortable with him doing something, literally telling her that he doesn’t give a fuck.So, to everyone who’s like, “he never does anything without her consent!”, right here, he’s telling her that it’s irrelevant to him.

““If I leave and find another job, will you buy that company, too?”

[…]

“Yes, I will buy that company, too.””

Sometimes, I feel like the abuse can be subtle and difficult to see; other times I just need to quote the text verbatim and it’s blindingly obvious.

So Ana thinks that she doesn’t want to fight, so all of that conversation is just forgotten and they go back to pounding. Seriously. That happens. None of that is ever resolved. To be fair, though, this sex scene is hilarious and almost enough to distract me from the fuckery that came before. He gets ice-cream from the freezer, and sort of stalks around the apartment for a bit.

“He looks up at me, eyes dark. “Ben & Jerry’s & Ana.” He says each word slowly, enunciating every syllable clearly.”

Try enunciating every syllable there, and tell me how sexy that sounds. Also, you can’t have dark eyes when holding ice-cream- that’s a fact and we all know it. They head to the bedroom and Christian is all-

““You have a change of sheets, don’t you?””

So wet right now

I did internet dating a while ago, and one guy’s opening line was “I want to soak your sheets.” I’ve thought about it a lot in the intervening years, trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to soak my sheets with and how he thought that might turn me on, but now I know- it was actually Christian Grey and I missed out on the chance to have him smear ice-cream on my fucking duvet. This is also the only sex scene in history to have “Normally, I hate energy-saving bulbs” just thrown in there. EL James is a master of the erotic craft, and we should bow down before her.

Christian ties Ana up, straddles her, and just starts munching on ice-cream straight from the tub while he’s on top of her. Does he get how food-play works? Is this meant to be sexy? If someone started chowing down on MY ice-cream right in front of me, I would consider more an affront than sexy sexy foreplay.

“Taking another spoonful, he offers me more. This time I keep my mouth shut and shake my head, and he lets it slowly melt on the spoon so that the melted ice cream drips, onto my throat, onto my chest.”

Alright, so earlier, Christian was like “ooh, this ice cream is still hard”, so it must have taken an age to melt and drip all sexy like. So they’re just sitting there, watching ice-cream melt, for what, a good three, four minutes? In silence?

This, but with ice cream.

I know people will defend this with “ooh, but it’s fantasy”, but for me, I assumed the fantasy in erotica (if you can even call this “erotica”) came from the fact that the sex was just mind-blowingly good, not that somehow ice-cream melts faster for fucking Christ’s sake. He puts ice-cream on to her torso, and it gets on the bed, and he licks it off her nipples. Ana keeps on thinking about how cold it is and how surprised she is by that, and somehow we’re still meant to see her as blisteringly smart and on-the-ball.

He fingers her, she “erupts”, and then he pounds her.

“This is what he does to me—takes my body and possesses it wholly so that I think of nothing but him. His magic is powerful, intoxicating. I’m a butterfly caught in his net, unable and unwilling to escape.”

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That’s not really how I would want to describe my relationship with the man I supposedly love. As an insect caught in a net and unable to get out. But hey, that’s because I don’t understand romance and want something ridiculous called a “healthy” relationship, where we “communicate” and he “doesn’t repeatedly try to control my life without my knowledge of consent”. I guess I’m just old-fashioned.

Christian invites Ana to some charity event, so now we’ve got the promise of something actually happening in this book that doesn’t involve terrible sex or emotional abuse, at least in theory. Ana goes to sleep, and dreams about the girl she saw outside her work, the one who was clearly a previous victim of Christian’s horrible machinations. Look, I’m just saying, if I found out a guy I was dating- and had only been dating for a few weeks at this point, mind- had an ex who was driven to attempt suicide after dating him, I maaaaay think twice.

Christian wakes Ana up, and admits that he knows who the girl is- she’s Leila, presumably one of his ex-subs, colour me completely fucking unsurprised. Ana gets Christian out of bed, and tries to coax more of the story behind Leila out of him, but he refuses. She points out that it’s her business, since Leila found and confronted her, but Christian brushes her off, because he cares deeply about her safety and peace of mind. Eventually, he comes clean, and tells her that while he was busy stalking her in Georgia, Leila broke into his apartment and tried to slit her wrists in front of Christian’s housekeeper. In fact, he describes it as her making “a haphazard attempt to open a vein”, because nothing any women does is good enough for Christian, even attempting fucking suicide.

I’m out

He explains to Ana that Leila was just making a cry for attention (according to Leila’s shrink, who sure as fuck shouldn’t have been telling Christian any of that), and that she ran off from her husband and family to pursue him again. Christian admits that she’s probably back because of Ana, and then he’s like “LOL LET’S FUCK THO” and we skip right on by it again. Look, you can’t use sex every time you want to “tease” out a plot point, alright, EL? Because if I was Ana and a potentially unstable ex of my current partner’s had broken into his apartment, attempted suicide, then stalked me, I would not be up for shagging my problems away until I knew I was safe.

They fall asleep together, and Ana wakes first, and starts fondling him and kissing his scars while he’s unconscious. Which, ew, because he repeatedly expressed how much he hated that and didn’t want Ana to do it. But boys don’t need boundaries, am I right?

They bang again (after Christian wakes up, and off-screen, thank God), and Ana chats to Christian about his workout habits. He tells her his trainer is an ex-Olympic kickboxer, except that kickboxing isn’t an Olympic sport, which is pretty funny. In my head, the guy is just bullshitting him and Christian’s too damn proud of boasting about his trainer to check his background. Nah, he only does that for women he’s met once. ZING!

Christian talks about taking Ana back to the Red Room of Pain, and Ana is hesitant-

““You know you want to,” he mouths at me.

I flush, and the undesirable thought that Leila could probably keep up slithers invidious and unwelcome into my mind.”

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So, there once again we have Ana wanting to do something to keep up with Christian as opposed to for her own pleasure. In case anyone’s keeping count. Ana tells Christian that she needs to buy another car, and he tells her that he’s already brought back the Audi he gave her. She’s angry, understandably, and tries to give him back the check he gave her for the sale of the Mini (which he completed without her consent, of course):

““Oh no. That’s your money.”

“No, it isn’t. I’d like to buy the car from you.”

His expression changes completely. Fury—yes, fury—sweeps across his face.”

Oh, great, Christian getting apoplectic about Ana trying to be an adult and pay her own way. She rips up the check, so he calls his bank and deposits twenty-four thousand dollars into her bank account and tells her not to “push him”. Is this what the opposite of a gold-digger is? Someone forcibly pushing money on you when you’ve explicitly said you don’t want it or any other gifts? Oh, wait, no, that’s just called being a massive creep with no fucking boundaries or an ounce of decency. My bad.

They start making out, and Christian wonders if she’ll ever stop defying him. Which…well, I’m pretty sure that before he’s said he likes Ana defying him, and it’s what makes he different. Except that whenever she does it, he flies into a rage and forces his will on her no matter what.

They go for breakfast, where Ana picks up the bill, and Christian pouts about it like a fucking child. He takes her to a beauty salon, and Ana realizes he’s trying to get her waxed and up to his standards as per the contract:

“I glare at him. He’s introducing the Rules by stealth.”

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Yup, so she acknowledges that he’s ignoring what she wants and pushing ahead with his own desires, but that’s cool because OH WAIT NO IT ISN’T THAT’S FUCKING HORRENDOUS. I don’t understand how the book can so openly note the fact that he’s manipulating her into being the woman he wants, and then be all gooey and pulsing-heart-emoticons over him. None of this shit is hidden; a lot of it is right there in Ana’s inner monologue. And still, EL and many of her readers claim this is a healthy relationship?

Ana agrees to get a haircut (Christian owns the salon, by the way, hence the quick appointment time), and notices Christian noticing an attractive older blonde who’s walked into the salon. Christian goes over to greet her, and Ana realizes what we figured out a page ago-

“It’s Mrs Robinson.”

So, with that dirge of a chapter over, I’ll see you all next week!

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April 24, 2016

A Wanker’s Literary Reaction: The New Doctor Who Companion

Bitch, please, did you really think I was going to let the announcement of a new Doctor Who companion pass by without comment? I would have had this blog post up last night, but I was too busy drinking rum and being an indefensible bastard- and occasionally breaking to scroll through the Twitter reaction to this new casting. Opinion seems divided, so the best way to figure out precisely what I make of the new Tardis inhabitant is to take this teaser beat by beat. With me?

0:01: Daleks. Great. Can we get an original monster along with the new companion? No? Right, sorry, moving on.

0:04: RUNNING! Looks like she’s dressed sensibly for it- a mark in her favour. Ever since Black Canary was fighting crime in a leather corset and heels (HEELS), I’ve had a weird thing about outfits being fit for purpose.

0:10: In fact, can I just have her whole outfit? I assumed the wardrobe department for the Moffat era only had bottoms that ended about six inches above the knee, but apparently that’s not the case any more.

0:21: I’ve seen a lot of people throwing shade about Pearl Mackie’s eyebrows in this clip. I mean, they’re…there, on her face, I guess?

0:30: Now we’re actually getting some dialogue from her, I like her. I’m a big fan of the borderline-annoying, motormouth assistants (I miss you Catherine Tate), and she seems….(adjusts tie, sits up straight, makes sure everyone is listening)….to fit the BILL.

0:43: It’s pretty cool to see Peter Capaldi not trapped in the Saint Clara plotline any more, even if he is just breathing heavily and talking quickly here. He’s still an awesome Doctor, and it’s going to be fun to see him not bogged down by Clara’s physically painful arc in the next season.

0:55: I’ve seen a few people getting furious about the fact that the new companion keeps talking even as the Daleks bear down on the two of them, and to them, I say: fuck off. This is a two-minute teaser, and it’s aim is to introduce Pearl Mackie as Bill. Anyway, isn’t it kind of cool to see someone who laughs (or just talks super-fast) in the face of danger?

1:04: I liked that line. I will say that the dialogue for this segment isn’t great, but that Capaldi and Pearl Mackie are both pretty fun and they have an easy, chill chemistry which I could get behind. As opposed to having her be THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE UNIVERSE EVER.

1:10: “I’ve always been too busy running away.” I mean, anyone who’s watched even, like, three of the six-hundred and forty-eight Dalek episodes knows that’s mostly a lie.

1:31: This is goofy as hell, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it. But considering the whole of last season was far, far, far too serious for it’s own good, maybe this is an improvement.

1:41: WHOOOOOO HE MADE A BACK TO THE FUTURE REFERENCE WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE

1:49: Could only afford the one Dalek for this, could they? Got a lot of saving to do for the actual season?

1:59: Overall? I like her. Sure, she’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but as an overly talkative, 25% irritating sidekick myself, I’m feeling her.

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April 21, 2016

Fifty Shades Darker Recaps: Chapter Three

Hello, and welcome back to another week’s recapping (you can find last week’s post here, if you want to catch up) Thanks to all who’ve been tweeting and otherwise social media-ing me about these posts- knowing that I’m making you all suffer with me is all I need to keep me motivated.

Me, approaching these recaps every week.

So let’s thunder on with chapter three-strap in, because this week’s recap is fucking enormous, just like Christian’s-

We left off with Christian and Ana declaring their love for each other, Christian giving her an iPad with some music on it, and the two of them officially getting back together oh god oh god why. Ana heads to work (at a publishing house, because writers always write about writers in some way or another), and is glad for her carlessness as she listens to the music Christian loaded on to her new gadget on the bus. We all remember why she doesn’t have a car, don’t we? Hint:it’s because Christian sold her original car without asking her, and then tried to force a new one on her which she eventually returned. But Christian would never do anything to her without her consent, right, guys? Guys?

Ana and Christian email back and forth about whether or not Ana has eaten breakfast (combining two of my favourite motifs in one- fucking interminable email exchanges and hand-wringing over Ana’s eating habits), and then Christian warns her that shes “going to need all her energy for begging”, with not further context, which lands us firmly at the Serial Killer end of the Christian Grey spectrum for this chapter. And, as I’ve said before, if I’m hooking up with a hot fictional psychopath…

I spent a good twenty minutes perusing my generous collection of Fit TV Serial Killers gifs. I was in a campy Evan Peters mood today.

Ana goes for lunch, and listens to some more of the music Christian chose for her, and she notices that he’s put up a piece by the composer who he played through headphones to her while he did mild sensation play in the last book.

“Oh, Fifty has a sense of humor, and I love him for it. Will this stupid grin ever leave my face?”

First, take a drink for the book referring the Christian in-text as fucking Fifty. I’m not sure what her definition of a “sense of humour” is, but it’s certainly pretty far from mine. It’s another example of the book being all “Look how FUNNY and PERFECT and CLEVER and HANDSOME Christian is!”, while not really explaining why he is any of those things. He just is, aight, and if you think he’s in fact an abuser,you OBVIOUSLY don’t understand GREAT LITERATURE.

Ana’s bored in the afternoon, and sends Christian an email telling him she’s twiddling her thumbs. So he’s all, I could find a better use for them, which is either a reference to anal play or thumbscrews, both of which would make the book that much better. He also mentions that her work emails are monitored, which for some fucking reason she didn’t know, so they can’t have kinky cyber sex or whatever he was planning.

Ana’s boss is guided by the honing device of his unquenchable erection in the direction of Ana’s desk, and invites her out for a drink with the rest of the office (at a bar called “50s”. Take a shot!). The most interesting thing about this section is an arguably missing comma. Ana goes to email Christian about it, mentioning the name of the bar, and announcing “The rich seam of humor that I could mine from this is endless”.

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LOL THE BAR IS NAMED LIKE YOUR NAME HA HA. There, I mined it for you. They chat a little longer, and he says he’ll see her “Sooners rather than laters, baby.”

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Which might be my favourite line in the whole series yet. Ugh, series- not I’ve reminded myself there’s still another book to go after this. On an unrelated note, you ever eye your bedroom window and idly wonder if the drop would kill you or just inure you badly enough that no-one would expect you to fulfill your blogging-related commitments?

Ana gets ready to meet Christian:

“I grin at the mirror and straighten my pale blue shirt—the one Taylor bought me. I am wearing my favorite jeans today, too. Most of the women in the office wear either jeans or floaty skirts. I will need to invest in a floaty skirt or two.”

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Look, I don’t know if I’m conveying here how utterly fucking stunningly boring this chapter is. Like, last week’s was bad and full of abuse and what have you, but this is just fucking dull. This is proof positive if ever we needed any that people just skipped straight to the sex scenes, because there’s no way anyone in all of fucking Christendom would have put themselves through this dirge out of choice.

As Ana leaves the office, she hears her name being called, and something finally happens in this chapter.

“I turn expectantly, and an ashen young woman approaches me cautiously. She looks like a ghost—so pale and strangely blank.”

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Spoiler alert, this woman was involved with Christian Grey.

“Like me, she has dark hair that starkly contrasts with her fair skin. Her eyes are brown, like bourbon […]“What do you have that I don’t?” she asks sadly.”

The woman reveals bandages around her wrists, and then wanders off. And Ana’s all like, “What was that about?”. Look, I don’t want to imply Ana’s an idiot here, but come on now. What could that woman poooooossibly have wanted? Walking around, looking like Christian’s type, asking her what Ana has that she doesn’t.

Ana heads over to the bar, and tries to forget about the girl who just approached her. She asks “have you any plans for the weekend?” because EL James 100% gets how American twenty-somethings talk, and that brief fizz of interest in this chapter wetly plups out, never to be heard from again.

She drinks a few beers with her colleagues, and then AMC’s The Walking Dick (IE her boss) appears to letch over her.

““Ana, think you made the right decision coming here?” Jack’s voice is soft, and he’s standing a bit too close.”

Why does everyone who’s interested in Ana talk to her like their minutes away from dragging her horse-tranked body to their caravan in the middle of the woods? Seriously, if someone asked me “Do you think you made the right decision coming here?”, I would assume they were either politely implying I should fuck off or about to prove to me why I made the wrong decision.

I’m going to picture Jack Hyde as Oliver Thredson from now on, and you should too.

Jack backs her up against the bar and starts practically humping her leg, but then Christian turns up and he backs off. Christian and Jack start staking their territory, to the extent that I was fulling expecting one of them to whip out his cock and start pissing up Ana’s leg. As we all know, ladies, the dream is to have two guys get into an embarrassing yet also intensely dull dick-measuring contest over you.

Christian and Ana head back to the car, and Christian gives her a “panty-combusting” look-

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And he talks about how they’re going to bang, etc. And then we get some…um, interesting developments.

“Your boss, Jack Hyde, is he good at his job? […] That man wants into your panties, Anastasia,” he says dryly.”

“Well, he can want all he likes . . . why are we even having this conversation? You know I have no interest in him whatsoever. He’s just my boss.”

“That’s the point. He wants what’s mine. I need to know if he’s good at his job.””

Wants what’s mine. Wants. What’s. Mine. Because Ana is a possesion to be owned, not a person with thoughts and feelings and fucking agency of her own. I mean, it isn’t news to me that Christian sees her like this, but yet somehow people are arguing about how he respects her and sees her as an equal when he just blatantly does not. Christian talks about how he wants to fire Jack Hyde-

““I mean it. One move and he’s out.”

“You don’t have that kind of power.”

[…]

Christian gives me his enigmatic smile.

“You’re buying the company,” I whisper in horror.”

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YUP. So that’s happening now. He tries to reassure her and tell her that, in fact, he’s already bought the company. After promising not to interfere with her career. He’s BOUGHT THE COMPANY SHE’S WORKING AT. And this didn’t happen overnight-knowing that these things probably take more than a couple of days, it’s safe to assume that Christian started this process while they were dating the first time round or worse, broken up. And just didn’t mention it. He tells her it’s because he needs to be sure she’s safe, and she calls him an arse, then he laughs at her, and she laughs back, and-

““Just because I have a stupid damn grin on my face doesn’t mean I’m not mad as hell at you,” I mutter breathlessly, trying to suppress my high-school-cheerleader giggling. Though I was never cheerleader—the bitter thought crosses my mind.”

Oh cool, so we’re just sliding straight past the fact that he PURCHASED THE COMPANY YOU WORK AT TO EXERCISE CONTROL OVER YOU because you were never a cheerleader. Awesome. Great. So happy right now.

They go back to her place, and cook stir-fry. Christian says he’s hungry for her, blah blah, and “everything south of [her] waistline clenches”.

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Christian demands Ana tell him what she wants, and her inner goddess is too busy thrashing about on a chaise longue to answer the question. She touches Christian, and he bats her away (pretty reasonably, given the number of times he’s told her how little he likes to be touched). They make out some more, and-

““What do you want, Anastasia?” he breathes.

“You.” I gasp.

“Where?”

“Bed.””

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AW YEAH GET ME SOME OF THAT HOT SEXY HARDCORE BDSM EROTICA. They go to bed and Christian makes Ana ask to be undressed, kissed, etc. She motions for him to go down on her, and he demands she say where she wants his mouth-

“Oh, he’s taking no prisoners. Embarrassed I quickly point at the apex of my thighs, and he grins wickedly. I close my eyes, mortified, but at the same time beyond aroused.”

Ugh, can we just stop with the whole Ana-is-humiliated-by-having-a-vagina thing already? It’s uber-gross, and the word “mortified” shouldn’t really be coming up during an ostensibly vanilla fuck sesh. She bats him away after, like, ten seconds because she doesn’t want to come yet- Ana, one of the great things about having that vagina you seem to hate so much is multiple orgasms. Not that Christian seems to know about them either, to be fair.

She sucks his dick a little bit, he sucks her tits, then he fucks her, and it’s all writhing and groaning and begging and so, so fucking dull. They shag for about half a page, and then-

““Come on, baby,” he gasps. “Give it to me.”

His words are my undoing, and I explode, magnificently, mind-numbingly, into a mil-
lion pieces around him, and he follows calling out my name.”

“explode”

And, with that, this agonisingly long chapter is finally done with. See you next week for more escapades into the boring and abusive!

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April 19, 2016

Popjunk Popcorn: 10 Cloverfield Lane

I’ve been waiting to review this movie forever- it’s brilliant, and you’ve still got time to see it in the cinema.

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