Chris Jepson: I'll have what Sally had ... only real

There’s a scene in the 1989 movie “When Harry Met Sally” when Meg Ryan’s character Sally demonstrates in a Manhattan delicatessen to Billy Crystal’s Harry how women can convincingly fake an orgasm. It’s quite loud and dramatic and a nearby woman informs the waiter, “I’ll have what she’s having.” I’ve used that line a time or two in my life. Haven’t we all. What she’s “having” is the appeal of the recently released “Fifty Shades of Grey.”

I took my brother and a friend to a preview screening of “Fifty Shades” last week knowing full well what to expect. It was a boys’ night out. I had not read the trilogy but picked up the first book in a Barnes & Noble to skim the “sexy” parts. Before attending the movie I read a Wikipedia synopsis of each of the three books and quickly concluded that it’s little more than a poorly crafted fairytale with the added fillip of graphic sex.

I stood in a line of mostly women and struck-up conversations with several asking each if they knew how the story (trilogy) ended. Only one did. To make a long story short, “Fifty Shades” is about an ingénue who is seduced by a 30-ish billionaire rake who is into sadomasochism. For my more gentle readers, a sadomasochist is one who receives pleasure by inflicting pain and humiliation. Bondage, whips and safe words are integral to the process.

Let’s do a quick sex quiz. Raise your hands when you like what I describe. It’s sometimes OK to not be in control. I see some hands rising. Being blindfolded has some appeal. Being loosely tied (hands and feet) with velvet ropes and teased to, uh, distraction with a feather or a duster just might be the ticket at times. I say, who wouldn’t? “Fifty Shades” is all that on steroids.

I’ll now share my perspective on pain. In ninth grade, a couple of my buddies went out for football. Intrigued, I watched from a distance an early scrimmage and quickly determined that inflicting and receiving “pain” was an integral part of the game and I wanted no part of any of it. Which begs the question why have so many women read the “Fifty Shades” trilogy when inflicting and receiving pain is such a fundamental part of the storyline?

We all know the answer to that. What we all want is passion. We all want the delectable frisson of first encounters. That rush of pheromones, those nostril-flaring experiences of “new” love. If you’ve never had “that” experience or it’s been so long since you’ve felt that way—that that part of you has been dead for years — well, that is the undeniable appeal of “Fifty Shades.”

“Fifty Shades” pulled in $90 million this past four-day weekend and 68 percent of the audience was female. “Fifty Shades” received wretched reviews (although the actress playing the bound ingénue, Dakota Johnson, received accolades), yet the movie will ultimately rake in $500 million worldwide.

I was listening to public radio last week and a sponsor, Vermont Teddy Bear, was promoting, of all things, a product called “Fifty Shades of Grey Bear.” It comes with a silky blindfold and the “cutest” little handcuffs. Gag me! Wait. Hmmm? That’s literally the point.

Many won’t embrace any sexual message suggesting “anything goes in the bedroom” but, really, would “you” have it any other way?

After all, what Sally was having — only real — is what we all desire.