With the speculation growing that Sam Taylor-Johnson may not direct the 50 Shades of Grey sequels due to her frequent and increasingly bitter clashes with author EL James, the chances are that future directorial duties will fall to men, as was the case with the Twilight movies following Catherine Hardwicke’s success. Given the studio’s eagerness to promote the prestige of an award winning and critically adored artist like Taylor-Johnson working on their film, the chances are they’ll try to clinch a similarly acclaimed auteur for the job. I, a great lover of film, decided to take it upon myself to offer you all a glimpse into the potential directors who could bring that extra something to the material.
Quentin Tarantino’s 50 Shades: Christoph Waltz replaces Jamie Dornan as Christian Grey (thus winning 7 Oscars) and spends 40 minutes of the 142 minute running time staring at Ana’s feet. The pair have an extended conversation about Blaxploitation movies. Every 7th word is the N word. Ana is kidnapped by banditos to the tunes of Ennio Morricone. “You know what they call butt plug in France?”
George Lucas’s 50 Shades: Director makes changes every 4 years for a new and ‘exclusive’ DVD edition. Christian is replaced by a CGI dingo-lizard. The pair spend long scenes talking about sand in meadows before attending senate meetings on trade. Ana shoots first.
Wes Anderson’s 50 Shades: Set in an Upper East Side pastel pink townhouse, Owen Wilson awkwardly seduces the countess Tilda Swinton to the tunes of a ukulele orchestra. Bill Murray appears with a whip and a moustache. Mrs Robinson is played by a fox.
Christopher Nolan’s 50 Shades: 3 hours of epic CGI arses are interspersed with exposition about how the Red Room was made (as explained by Michael Caine). Big stakes are raised but nothing is really lost. Ana dies 40 minutes in to create more angst for Christian.
Werner Herzog’s 50 Shades: As narrated by the director. “And as the whip is swung down onto the delicate buttocks of the female, we reflect on the inherent melancholy of human existence. Why are we here? What is our purpose? Why did Jamie Dornan have his chest waxed? Is the painful removal of what comes naturally from our bodies symbolic of our being ripped from the warm bosom of our mother’s milk? It is a question we may never have an answer for.”
Paul Thomas Anderson’s 50 Shades: An increasingly plot-free LA set story composed of long Steadicam shots of sex between Joaquin Phoenix and Fiona Apple. The camera never leaves Phoenix’s face. He tears a sink from the wall during a sex scene, scored to Johnny Greenwood. Half the audience walk out.
David Fincher’s 50 Shades: Director spends 98 takes getting the lighting right on a scene of Christian brooding over his e-mail in this 140 minute long bleakly funny exploration of the darkness of human relationships. Trent Reznor’s Crazy In Love cover gives everyone nightmares. Tyler Perry plays the crack whore mother and is surprisingly good. World War 3 originates from a fight over creative control between Fincher and James. Fincher wins but ultimately we all lose.
JJ Abrams’s 50 Shades: LENS FLARE SEX!
Tom Hooper’s 50 Shades: Unstimulated sex scenes shot in close-ups and at dutch angles. Russell Crowe sings all the songs.
Judd Apatow’s 50 Shades: Christian and Ana are frustrated stoners who are introduced to BDSM by stoner pair (but totally not gay) James Franco and Seth Rogen. Long improvised scenes about the problems they have that nobody else cares about. Lena Dunham is naked, just because. Goes on half an hour too long.
Martin Scorsese’s 50 Shades: After 100 minutes of Leonardo DiCaprio as Christian Grey snorting cocaine from an assortment of whips and chains, he fucks Ana and comes in 11 seconds. Someone’s skull gets crushed in. Christian’s masculinity is revealed to be feeble and powerless. He does more coke.
Francis Ford Coppola’s 50 Shades: A wildly over-budget genre mish-mash complete with long sex scenes shot from a helicopter, an extended monologue from a Brando impersonator playing Christian, a red room the size of a village built entirely from hubris. Nobody involved reads the book, everyone involved goes bankrupt. The documentary about the making of it stands as a cautionary tale for generations to come.
Tim Burton’s 50 Shades: Johnny Depp plays every role in a variety of wigs (Tim got full custody in the split between him and Helena Bonham Carter). Danny Elman’s score includes more soprano choruses. Christian’s mother issues are turned into daddy ones as he moves to a secluded castle on a sound stage where Christopher Lee is the groundskeeper. Hairbrushes are used for spanking; never brushing actual hair. Ana wears nothing but cobwebs.
David O’Russell’s 50 Shades: A decent movie. Nothing spectacular. Gets 16 Oscar nominations.
Woody Allen’s 50 Shades: Nah, that’s way too easy.