On Wednesday night, I, along with a handful of other women (and one or two men) watched the midnight showing of Sex and the City 2 at my local multiplex. I had not planned to see the film on opening night, but when I found myself drinking martinis with four other women at 10 pm at a bar across from the movie theater, I simply couldn’t resist. It should come as no surprise that I, true to my demographic– single women in their twenties– am a big fan of the SATC franchise. I have my critiques of the show (SATC is classist, racist, ridiculous), but I also think it makes for really good television. Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda may be hopeless caricatures of real women, but at this point, they feel like a part of my extended family.
The story is obviously better suited for the half hour format than the feature-length film, but still, the first movie was OK. Yes it was long, but it had a couple of wonderfully poignant moments. I’m thinking of Carrie, destroyed by heartbreak, staring into that mirror in the bathroom in Mexico, revealing an aging face. Or Carrie and Miranda, significant-otherless, watching the ball drop in their PJ’s on Miranda’s couch. These moments of friendship are why the show was so popular. Yes, it’s fun to watch women talk about sex, but it’s also fun to watch women talk to each other about all the other things real women talk about. It’s fun to watch a show where the plot revolves around the strong bonds of friendship that bind women to each other, as boyfriends and husbands come and go. The first movie maintained the integrity of the show; it had a plot, and the characters experienced growth through their 145 minutes of screen time. You will find no such plot, let alone growth in the sequel. Continue reading