So I finally bit the bullet and went to see the second Sex and the City film. I'm not ashamed to admit that I completely loved the series. It was funny, original and entertaining. The principle characters were compelling and intelligent and the four girls were "each other's soulmates", never letting a man interfere with their friendship.
It seems that with the arrival of the first film, all the wit and subtlety of the series was thrown away and replaced with dull, insincere women who relied on ruddy men far too much. Charlotte gave up her impressive job to have babies, Carrie let her significant other buy her an apartment, Samantha devoted her life to her superstar boyfriend; even jetting off to LA for him, and Miranda got cheated on. What happened to make these strong New York women completely charmless? When did the "style" overtake substance so completely?
So it's safe to say that I went into the cinema with low expectations of the follow-up. The good thing about pessimism, however, it that it's harder to be disappointed. The least that could be hoped for was a mediocre but entertaining couple of hours, and this is exactly what I got. During the first half hour, I thought I was watching the series again. The pace was quick, the laughs were rolling, and I didn't detest any of the characters too much. Of course the film's desire to give every single person a "happy ending" (and by this, I of course mean marriage) meant that the opening sequence focused on the shockingly stereotypical wedding of the completely incompatible gay best friends of two of the girls (two loose ends in desperate need of being tied), yet it was a promising start, and my expectations, however low, were being met.
From here, however, the film took a turn for the worst as the girls jetted off to Abu Dhabi, immediately ridding the stylists of the opportunity to introduce layering as a fashion device, and providing the chance for a bit of casual racism. While I have no doubt that the producers were aiming for female empowerment, I'm pretty sure that any female inhabitant of the United Arab Emirates would have been a little bit offended by the sweeping stereotyping of their way of life. Also, instead of any sort of rebellion against patriarchy, the women's way of protesting was to wear Manolos under their hijab. Ridiculous? Not at all. Not at all...
The film's redeeming feature was no doubt the return of the lovely Aidan, played by the lovelier John Corbett, with whom I fell in love in My Big Fat Greek Wedding (a classic of our time if you ask me...). However, not even this tall, tall man could save the film which ended more charmlessly and unmemorably than ever. The truth of the matter is that this blog contains no spoilers, simply because I can't remember anything original happening. At all.
So all in all, the film, despite the brilliant foundations laid by the series failed to woo me. Yes, putting pretty people on the big screen will always rake in the cash, yes the insane budget was apparent, but I can't help but thinking that some of this cash would have been better spent on writers who were actually funny or intelligent rather than on impressively ridiculous clothes and Arabian walls made of gold. If (God forbid) a third film is made, some reevaluating needs to be done and the women, rather than the men who dictate their lifestyle should be brought to the forefront; and this doesn't mean just putting them in bigger dresses and higher heels.
P.S. please note that I include pictures only of the series. Consider it an act of defiance...
Oh and I changed Warwick to my first choice... Hello Italian!
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