If you like your men emotionally unavailable, controlling, withholding and the type who resolves their feelings with dungeon sex - Christian Grey is the fella for you!

This is the third instalment of the 50 Shades of Grey books and film phenomenon.

And as the title suggests, you can’t help wondering just who is lucky enough to be “free” of the wooden acting and softly-lit sex scenes.

It all starts out predictably enough with a big, white wedding.

But things go downhill from there.

Our billionaire slap-and-tickle protagonists are on their honeymoon in Paris and the south of France when a balaclava-clad bad guy with a designer backpack breaks into Grey tower, hacking some data and covering his tracks.

Naturally, Christian Grey’s squad of security guards couldn’t possibly deal with the mysterious new threat while he and Anastasia soak up rays on their private yacht.

The honeymoon is cut short: bad news for Anastasia, who was finally enjoying some boobs-out freedom by the pool.

Back home in Seattle, we flash to the newly-weds’ happy home-life.

It’s all a bit of an illusion, though.

Anastasia asks no questions and feigns surprise when she is told by girlfriend Kate that her husband has paid for the entire Grey family to have private security in the wake of news his helicopter crash from movie II may have been the result of sabotage.

Naturally, Anastasia is flanked by private security wherever she goes. This includes to her workplace, where she has a job as a publisher.

One can only assume colleagues raise their eyebrows about her sudden elevation to a senior role. I mean, who gets promoted while they’re on honeymoon leave?

Decked out in designer gear, Anastasia holds meetings with publishers and staff and spouts insipid lines like “bump up that cover font by two points and it’s good to go”.

Like much of this film franchise, it’s all about the look of the thing.

One really gets the feeling that all the heart and soul has gone into the few moodily-lit sex scenes the films have become renown for.

Don’t get me wrong: the actors Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan are lovely to watch.

Their bodies are beautiful and lithe, waxed to within an inch of their lives, clad in exquisite lingerie and there’s not a pube out-of-place.

It’s just a shame they have to open their mouths and talk.

That said, Jamie Dornan, who plays Christian Grey, will always hold a special place in my heart as that disturbingly sexy Irish serial killer from The Fall.

The next hour of the film unravels like a tragic episode of The Bold and the Beautiful, punctuated by the occasional bondage session.

There’s an attempted abduction, some jealous co-workers, an unexpected pregnancy, ice-cream, anguished shower scenes and past lives come back to haunt the couple.

This really is the most vacuous piece of cinema around.

I saw it with a cinema full of women (and two blokes) at Palace Centro in New Farm who variously giggled and cheered at various points throughout the film.

Naturally, this was MOST entertaining.

My girlfriend, who was lucky enough to be clapping eyes on the franchise for the first time, must have rolled her eyes a hundred times throughout the hour and 45-minute session.

See it for a laugh or for pure liberation, because it feels great to finally be Fifty Shades freed…