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A visual review of Fifty Shades of Grey (Photo by Rhys James)
Lots of things have been going on at all those Fifty Shades of Grey screenings you’ve been desperately been trying not to think about your mum going to (“Oh, Christian Grey,” your mum is saying. “Oh. Oh.”) (Your mum is wearing suspenders, for some reason.) (Your mum will later tell her friends that “the nipple play” scenes were her favourite.)
There were three arrests after a fight broke out at a screening in Glasgow. Staff cleaning a cinema in an unknown location found a number of soiled cucumbers on the back seats. And now a woman in Milton Keynes has erotically soiled herself so badly that everyone had to be cleared out of Cineworld because the overpowering smell of her faeces was so bad that nobody could breathe.
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You laugh, but: have you ever been so aroused in your life that you shat and vomited at the same time?
More to the point: have you ever brought someone else to such agonising levels of ecstasy that they have done every possible fluid out of every possible orifice in one symphonic orgasm? No. You haven’t. If I were you, I’d spend the weekend thinking about your entire approach to sex, because you’re clearly not as arousing as a flickering celluloid image of Jamie Dornan with his junk tucked neatly between his legs. He just made someone vomit with desire. What have you ever done with your life?
But with respect to your inferior sex game, the Milton Keynes Citizen reports the woman in question was extremely drunk, which goes some way to explain the “shitting and vomming out of both ends like a grotesque Catherine wheel” thing. One cinema-goer told the paper: “She lost control of everything, including all bodily fluids.” Everything. Including all bodily fluids. “The whole cinema stank.”
After the packed screening was evacuated, attendees were offered refunds to see the show again. However, some were disappointed that their much-anticipated plans had been ruined.
“I’m not sure of her age, but she was so drunk she couldn’t move,” another wide-eyed audience member said. “She practically had to be carried out. And the mess she left behind was just disgusting. There was no way they could clean it up there and then – it would be a specialist job. So the film was stopped and everybody had to leave.”
Which begs the question: who is the specialist to which you turn when someone gets so drunkenly aroused at Christian Grey that they evacuate every fluid in their body? Who specialises in that?
Anyway, the attendees were clearly disappointed that their plans for an evening of Fifty Shades/M&S Meal Deal for two/six minutes of missionary intercourse were so derailed by a distressed woman copiously vomiting on herself, with one audience member saying: “It was so disappointing. We’d really been looking forward to seeing it after reading the books.”
There has been a lot of criticism of Fifty Shades of Grey: that it glamorises abuse, blurs the line of consent and conflates deep psychological control and anal exploration with the fairytale of romantic love. That it is badly acted and appallingly written. But, when you think about it, ejecting every single fluid your body can possibly hold all at once – in a high gracing arc, out of every orifice available to you, presumably while screaming in some sort of muffled agony – is possibly the greatest, most visceral review of all time.
Thank you, anonymous vomit woman of Milton Keynes, for that. Also, please can you think about replacing Claudia Winkelman on Film 2015?
More stuff about that infernal fucking film:
Christian Grey Is the Basic Bitch Version of Patrick Bateman
What I Learned at a ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’–Inspired Sex Expo
We Spoke to the Women Protesting Against the ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ Film