The Craziest, Most Shocking Moment From Fifty Shades Freed That Drove Me Wild

Fifty Shades Freed, the final installment of E.L. James’s Fifty Shades film franchise, arrives in select cities today, and the honeymoon phase will not disappoint those fans of the series who have come to expect over-the-top mid-century modern interiors, lavish transportation, chiseled abs, bared nipples, and light BDSM. (Actually, that might be the thing that disappoints, if anything.) In this third and last movie, Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson) and Christian Grey (Jamie Dornan) are married, and, true to life, they have less time for their red playroom and more time for conversations about child-rearing, home improvement, work . . . and angry ex-coworkers, orphanage mysteries, car chases, abductions, and piano serenading, obviously. Beware of spoilers!

This panoply of outlandish moments—essentially a vessel through which to deliver gorgeous homes and bodies (which could be the name of a new magazine edited by Ana at Seattle Independent Publishing, incidentally)—is what will make Fifty Shades lovers feel right at home, as they work to mentally stitch together the fan fiction–generated feel of the movie. Maybe it’s because it was the final film, maybe it’s because Christian and Ana are pretty happy now, but Fifty Shades Freed feels like James had to reach a bit more strenuously for its themes—the results are even more outlandish than its predecessors.

There was plenty to keep you guessing: Ana’s surprise promotion, in which, well, you’ve probably gotten promoted before, right? You return from your honeymoon and walk into your old office at the publishing house you work for, and it’s been redecorated! You’re told that it’s for the new boss, and then when you ask who the new boss is, you’re told, “You.” Congratulations! This is normal. Also, you don’t think or talk about the fact that your wealthy new husband owns the company.

Or there’s Fifty Shades Freed’s surprise musical number: Christian’s apartment has always had a piano, yes, but we always assumed it was simply another signifier of his wealth, like a yacht, or a chandelier. But Christian actually plays the piano in this movie, and sings. What’s more, his family, including his beloved sister Mia (Rita Ora), had no idea of his musical leanings! And they don’t seem the least bit embarrassed when he suddenly starts playing and singing Paul McCartney’s “Maybe I’m Amazed” while locking eyes with his new bride in front of everyone, out of the blue, and not very well. And then they all just . . . move on.

But the hands down, ultimate, number-one most insane, outrageous, ridiculous moment has to do with nakedness. No, it was not in the red room, nor did it involve whips, chains, or other toys. It simply involved Ana getting dressed, while angry, in the most obscenely unrealistic way that any woman who has ever gotten dressed would ever do it while arguing.

The scene happens after Ana has discovered she is pregnant, and, somehow, Christian doesn’t seem that thrilled to start a family, given that he is likely a sex addict with incredibly severe issues regarding parenting and his traumatic childhood experiences. Christian has left the house after the news, to get drunk and hang out with his old mistress, Elena (played by Kim Basinger, though we don’t get to see her this time), and Ana is enraged. The next morning she storms into and out of the shower, where Christian confronts her, and they fight while she gets dressed. And this is where the madness begins: First, of course, she is topless, with her underwear on. So far, so good. Next come the tights, while she attempts to talk to her husband about their unborn child and the fact that he thinks she is going to love it more than she loves him. Then, the jewelry, again, while topless, no bra (where is her bra?). And finally, unfathomably, her boots, so that she is teary, emotionally defending her desire to start a family while (and I’m risking repeating myself into a sanitarium, here) totally topless.

I’ve gotten used to the flimsily constructed plot of Fifty Shades, and I enjoy a scene in the red room as much as the next American woman. But I cannot abide by this director’s choice—I’m assuming it was the director James Foley, because no woman who has ever put on a dress and tights would ever put them on in that order, ever—to make this poor woman show her nipples for so painfully long. When she finally was able to dress the rest of her body, I nearly wept.