A few things:
(1) I’ve never read the book, and am unlikely to see the movie. If I want to watch a film about people wrecking themselves with sexuality, I’ll watch Steve McQueen’s Shame again.
(2) I think the “romanticizing abuse” meme is horseshit. Romance is abuse; even at it’s most benign, it’s self-flagellation. Romance is suffering, and aching, and longing. It’s the right word said at the wrong time, the missed connection, and the crossed wire. Romance is the hunt, the capture, and the quiet, empty hours after the feast. Even those adorable, romantic photos of 80 year old couples holding hands are just a way of smiling in the face of death. If we didn’t romanticize pain, there would be no purpose in romance at all.
(3) I don’t care if Ian Fleming’s stories gave people unrealistic ideas about spycraft, and I don’t care that some horny Twilight fan has given people unrealistic ideas about kinky sex. Fiction isn’t advocacy.