Sex and the City

Sex and the City
Directed by: Michael Patrick King
Rated R
145 Minutes

Review by Giraldo Barraza



Love them or hate them, the women of Sex and the City have been culturally significant for the past decade. Look at the quartets of ladies now parading around having "girls' night out," with their heels, big purses, and liberated attitudes. Liberated, or maybe selfish… take your pick. Point is, numerous twenty-somethings live by the gospel according to Carrie Bradshaw. Yes, that HBO show sparked a new-fashioned material revolution about new fashions that revolve around material things. Now after a few years comes the big-screen continuation of these Manhattan ladies. Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), Samantha (Kim Cattrall), Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) and Charlotte (Kristin Davis) are older and a bit wiser. Well, some of them are. After years of glam frivolity, it appears fabulous has become fabuless. Sex and the City is a very long film trying to tie up loose ends that were mostly tied up at the end of the series. For a coda about what happens after "happily ever after," it's not a lot of fun. Somber in tone and reflective by nature, it feels like a hangover rather than a fruity drink.

Much has happened since this show left TV four years ago. "Sex and the City" left a void that not even "Lipstick Jungle" or "Cashmere Mafia" could fill. Although clearly tailored to meet the appeal of the xx chromosome audience, the main appeal of "Sex and the City" was the camaraderie of the four central characters. The series concluded with closure for all, and yet here we are. Set four years after the series' conclusion, the girls have scaled back as their lives mature. As a result, the themes of the film are more admirable, but the movie itself is lacking the spunk of the series. What lacks is that spark, that personality of the New York lifestyle. It's Sex without the City.

There are shiny elements sprinkled throughout, but it all seems so artificial. Random scenes of photo shoots and personal modeling are showcased, but serve no real purpose. In fact, much of the film is unnecessary. The characters are only stagnant for those four years because the screenplay requires them to. Sadly, the film feels contrived. It operates like it has to include all of the characters we grew accustomed to. How many different characters floated in and out of their lives in six seasons? Yet here it is four years later and nothing new is happening? Why don't their lives become interesting until the opening credits roll? When viewed through those lenses, Sex and the City feels as organic as a deliberate reunion tour.

To be fair, there is one new significant character that pops up after about an hour of the film has passed. Yet after showing so many characters, it is a grave misstep to add a new character to an already thinly spread ensemble. Jennifer Hudson is horribly miscast as a personal assistant to Carrie. Her role is useless. Presumably she is a naïve counterpart to all the rampant cynicism, but she really serves no other purpose other than to allow Carrie to make as many riffs on the phase "Saint Louis" as humanly possible.

Oddly, this particular misfire brings to mind the issue of minorities in the Sex and The City universe. Many have clamored on the topic before, and I was never one to subscribe to it… until now. The references are few, but the attempted humor used in regard to minorities is slightly appalling. The best they could do is an assistant with a Louis Vuitton fetish (although to be fair, ALL the characters are materialistic), a cab driver with a turban, and a five-star Mexican resort that's only good for diarrhea jokes? If that's the type of beverage this film serves, no wonder no one even drinks the water.

For all its droll and unnecessary dressing, the interaction of the quartet is still the selling point. Their dialogue and banter still bring an occasional smile, but the film adds ill-fitting situational comedy that mixes like water and suede. Why try and solicit guffaws from the audience about bikini waxes or someone crapping their pants? Is this an American Pie spinoff about a group of MILFs? Is this a Kevin Smith movie? For a film with this title, there isn't anything sexy about the humor. Subtlety is clearly NOT the new black. Gone are the annoying clever touches that passed themselves off as sardonic wit. What we have here in its stead is plenty of disillusionment. Both for the characters and the audience.

The anchor for the storyline is still the defining relationship of Carrie and Mr. Big (Chris Noth). Their stormy romance made for some interesting melodrama in the series, but sitting in a theater for two and a half hours I can't help asking myself why these people insisted on acting like middle-aged children after all these years. After all they went through, they still flake out in the same old ways? Why can't they grow up already? Aren't they all pushing fifty by now?

I guess if one has invested enough time in viewing the entire series and simply want to revisit some "old friends" like Carrie, Sam, Miranda and Charlotte, this might be enough to satisfy them. I have actually seen all episodes, and must admit I've never been a big fan (although, I must confess, a fan of Big). However, I always enjoyed the interaction of the four women and how they tried to cope with real (if petty) problems in their constructed lives. Here it mostly leads to cheesy clichés and redundant conclusions, with no payoff for anyone who really wants to know what happens after "happily ever after.

As a standalone film, it just does not work. There is no appeal except what was hinted at years ago on HBO. The film relies way too much on its past to maintain its attractiveness. I'd venture to guess that if Carrie herself had to describe this movie, she'd likely say it was like an old flame she was hoping to reignite a spark with. Alas, they only ended up lying there, and she went home unsatisfied. Leaving this film, I felt the same.

Ultimately there is no reason for this story to be told other than to make money off of the success of the series. After all, we never saw "The Golden Girls" movie or "Designing Women: The Movie." Much like last year's The Simpsons Movie, it's only more of the same on a larger canvas, only much less animated (in every sense of the word). Sex and the City is a menu picture of a cosmopolitan made with Grey Goose, but serves a mere cranberry Jell-o shot with lesser vodka. It's Absolut mediocrity. Do yourself a favor and stay at home and watch it on TV. For Carrie as well as the moviegoer, Bigger does not necessarily equate to better.