Carrie on… yes I watched Sex and the City 2. It was a very painful experience, but at least now I know that nothing worse can happen for the rest of the year.
Put aside my utmost disappointment with direction, screenplay, bad acting, I wasn’t expecting much there anyway, but I was expecting the film to be bubbly pink champagne, you know, funny and witty and fashionable, but I got none of that. Unfortunately, there are only few bubbles left in this champagne, and they are not worth drinking the bottle.
Let’s start from the beginning. Does anyone remember the series? It was supposed to be about four liberated and strong, successful women living in the capital of the world. When really we spent six seasons watching and listening four women whine about not being able to get a man. Dating in New York is nasty, but it’s not nearly as bad as they have portrayed it in SATC. Especially when you take into consideration the choice of the name for the show – Sex? What sex? If Samantha didn’t fuck half of New York, there’d be neither sex nor the city in that show.
Yet, there are entire generations of women who found themselves to just like Carrie! Or Miranda or Charlote, or Samantha even! Which one are you? Which one are you?
I am the one green with envy in the background, wondering how can Carrie afford all that clothes on a columnist’s pay check? What am I doing wrong?
Carrie has spent six seasons chasing Mr. Husband. No, they were nothing like strong, successful, liberated women having fun in expensive shoes. Most of the time they were just four whiny single neurotic girls chasing the ring, because apparently, even in the 21st century, besides very expensive shoes and bags, the only true value a woman can achieve is having a diamond on her finger. The show was not about women, it was about the worst of them. Writers took four character flaws, assigned them to four women and made caricatures of them. Not only have they dedicated every second of their free time to analyzing men and trying to trap them, but they’ve also narcissistic as hell! Damn, they’re always dressed up. Carrie is so faking the writer thing. Writers are neurotic, crazy drunkards, I would know. No, really, they were always top of the class, come on, everyone makes mistakes, oh well, not if you have 20 stylists per show.
So now that Miss Bradshaw has finally become Mrs. Preston, she has a problem with being called – Mrs. Preston. Oh my, her husband doesn’t wanna go out every night; he is a guy who actually enjoys spending an evening on the couch watching TV!!!! Can you believe that? A man who likes to watch TV? Outrageous! And she didn’t know it for six years? Wow! And later on it only gets better, so why not consider cheating on your husband with your ex boyfriend? Yes, that’s what real women do. Because showing a guy cheating would be cliché, why not have a Carrie do it. Give me a break.
The film has no plot whatsoever. The plot is them going to Abu Dhabi, but nothing happens there (or anywhere else), despite the film being unforgivably long (149 minutes).
Basically it’s a two and a half hour long parade of new designer collections, superficiality, greed and youth obsession. I will be the first one to admit that I am not very fond of Islamic culture and especially the way it treats women, but our four heroines have shown such an ugly and unintelligent racism towards it, it was not funny one bit.
When in Abu Dhabi – act like an average stereotype of an American – completely dumb.
Talking about dumb… Carrie is now a 45 year old woman and it just made me vomit every time she puts on her little girl act, eyelashes batting, mincing and hair tossing – it just becomes inappropriate at certain age, and slightly preposterous.
The characters were simply unbearable!
And fashion? Was the omission of style in this sequel deliberate? I know you have to advertise the red soles, but wearing strappy heels on a desert sand is just somehow – unfortunate. Read: silly.
Wearing haute couture with pumps for a night of watching a TV on couch with your husband – well, I must say I suddenly felt ridiculously underdressed because the evenings I spend with my bf at home I am wearing yoga pants and a t shirt. I will see to it and repel my fashion sins.
The entire movie is overdressed and it’s all just too much. Carrie looks like a Gosh Spice! I’ve completely misunderstood the genre, I thought it was a comedy, but really, it’s a fantasy. Glittery and a bad one. Liza Minnelli and gay wedding. Why do vain girls treat their gay friends as a fashion accessory? Every girl needs one! Have you got yours? “My gay friend is marrying her gay friend”. I guess saying “my friend is marrying her friend” just wouldn’t suffice. These girls’ shallowness goes even beyond Bergdorf Blondes.
And just to prove that they are not as racist, somewhere by the end of the movie they discover that under burkas even the Muslim women wear new Louis Vuitton spring collection! Ah, women are all the same everywhere, and they can all afford 20 000 $ outfits for every day of the year.
Just carrie on…