Fifty Shades Freed

It’s highly unlikely that anyone would venture into Fifty Shades Freed without knowing exactly what they’re getting into.

So it’s appropriate that this adaptation of the third book in the wildly popular trilogy from author E.L. James is proudly trashy like its predecessors — not so much about delivering quality as it is about fulfilling fan expectations.

From the moment it opens with a lavish wedding followed by an exotic honeymoon, it’s a lurid exercise in superficial excess that fails to make any meaningful emotional connection, which hardly matters to the source material’s legions of voyeuristic devotees.

The latest wish-fulfillment fantasy in the series again tracks the ongoing relationship between emotionally troubled billionaire Christian Grey (Jamie Dornan) and his lover Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson). Their sexual chemistry stems from a mutual appetite for sadomasochistic role play with whips, handcuffs, and more.

The newlyweds settle into a life of luxury before tension arises from Christian’s jealousy stemming from Ana’s career in publishing, and Ana’s desire to start a family against Christian’s wishes. Then comes a visit from old nemesis Jack Hyde (Eric Johnson), Ana’s former boss who has plotted an elaborate scheme to gain revenge on both of them for their perceived betrayal.

Despite some slick direction by James Foley (Glengarry Glen Ross), who also helmed the previous installment, Fifty Shades Freed suffers from an eye-rolling screenplay by Niall Leonard — the real-life husband of the author — that revels in shallow melodrama and takes itself way too seriously.

While masquerading as a female-empowerment saga, it doesn’t deepen any character traits or offer a provocative exploration of sexual politics and corporate greed.

Then again, the result is hardly worth this level of scrutiny, so perhaps it’s just best to sit back and soak up the softcore sleaze, although returning viewers might feel shortchanged by the relative lack of time spent in the famed “red room.”

At least this sequel seems to have abandoned some of the high-minded pretension of its predecessors. After all, the justification for continuing the franchise at this point is more about financial pandering than creative rationale. And it once again finds a way to sneak below the bar.

Rated R, 105 minutes.