No Sex, No City, No Good

The HBO TV series “Sex and the Cityâ€� that debuted in 1998 was a celebration of female fierceness, independence and, above all, friendship.  From 1998 to 2004, three 30-somethings and one woman over 40 broke TV taboos by celebrating casual sex as empowering and talking to each other in raunchy, honest language.  They rejected tradition, clawed and fought at their jobs (and sometimes with each other) made money, spent it on fabulous clothes and personified the cultural zeitgeist. 

    “Sex and the City:  The Movieâ€� was a worldwide hit.

    Now, alas, comes “Sex and the City 2,â€�  full of stereotype, cliché, smugness and self-absorption.   There is no sex and no city. Only problems with marriage and menopause.

   Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) is worried that her marriage to Mr. Big (the loathsome Chris Noth) is boring.  After all, he no longer wants to go out every night; and he puts his still-shod feet up on the couch. (Yes, dear reader, she’s serious.)  Charlotte (Kristin Davis) is being driven mad by her children: One cries nonstop; one smacks her mom’s butt with hands covered in strawberry topping — and the butt is wearing vintage Valentino white pants to bake cupcakes.  (Doesn’t everyone?)

   Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) is a lawyer so harassed by her male boss that she takes Blackberry messages while kissing her husband. And Samantha (Kim Cattrall) — dear alive and horny Samantha — doses herself with anti-menopausal pills and foods recommended by Suzanne Somers to stay, well, horny.

   The film hits a clichéd high note from the beginning.  Carrie, in black tie and a horned headdress, presides at a gay male wedding; a white-clad gay male chorus sings; and then Liza Minnelli appears to perform the service (just finished divinity school, one supposes) and sing and dance a dynamite version of Beyonce’s “Single Women.â€�  It’s the high point of the film.  Unfortunately, there is still 90 minutes to go. 

    Eventually, their ridiculously pedestrian problems are too much for our four women, who need a getaway to rest, think and enjoy life again.  Samantha arranges an all-expenses paid week in Abu Dhabi at a lavish, garish hotel where the four chums share an enormous, tastelessly decorated penthouse.  And so ensues an hour of cheap, sophomoric double entendres and puns, incredibly expensive and tastelessly inappropriate clothes (Carrie first totters into the bazaar in an enormous lavender silk skirt with crinolines and skyscraper Louboutins — Manolos are out apparently).

   The film’s direction is amateurish, the dialogue ridiculous, and the photography makes the women — especially Parker — look gray and old.  Only Cattrall appears fresh if a bit overripe. It insults what these four fascinating women were by making them superficial and boring. It is, as they say in Morocco, vulgaire.

     “SATC2â€� is playing at the Moviehouse in Millerton, NY, and the Triplex inGreat Barrington, MA.TC 2â€� is playing at the Moviehouse in Millerton, NY, and the Triplex in Great Barrington, MA. It is rated R, despite two explicit pumping and thrusting scenes.

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