Review: Sex and the City

Few films released this summer will have the hype and anticipation of Michael Patrick King's Sex and the City. A major film about women, for women yet written, directed, shot and produced by men is never an everyday occurrence. Even a minor film about women, for women is rare. It is with disappointment that with such an opportunity, SATC abandons nearly all of the audacity and bravery of its television counterpart in lieu of generic plotting and cliché execution. While the HBO series rode a wave of feminine empowerment and honest, in your face sexuality to critical acclaim and audience adoration, the accompanying film instead becomes a materialistic, shallow and out of touch bore that overstays it welcome considerably.

Taken in short, 30 minute bursts, SATC worked tremendously. Even its staunchest male attackers will have trouble not being sucked in by the intelligent writing, pacing and humor of the television show. However, when one is forced to endure the presence of these women for a solid 2 and a half hours, even the most adamant fan will begin to wear. For those unfamiliar with the show, the story is centered on four women, Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), Charlotte (Kristen Davis) and Samantha (Kim Cattrell), and their (mis)adventures with love and fashion around New York City. For the duration of the show, Carrie had an on again, off again relationship with the elusive Mr. Big (Chris Noth) that finally culminated in the show's finale with a romantic encounter in the City of Lights. The film picks up from there, albeit 4 years later, with Carrie and Big still happily together and shopping for apartments. Thankfully for Carrie, Big is absolutely loaded and the duo buys a massive, luxurious apartment at the drop of the hat, which given the current state of the housing market, seems more and more fantastical with each passing day. From there, the topic of moving in/getting married is raised and agreed upon. However, after an event that to any fan of the show, shouldn't seem at all surprising, Carrie's world is turned upside down and our heroines head to Mexico for vacation.

While SATC is frank about its inner emotions, the film is largely ignorant to the outside world. These women seem culturally shut in, completely oblivious to anything other than the pursuit of love and wealth. SATC allows its protagonists to live in a bubble, never even mentioning any awareness of what is occurring in the outside world. Given the current political climate of the country, its inexcusable for a film that claims to represent what the modern woman thinks and feels and to which women respond to in an overwhelmingly positive manner, be so shut off to such matters. Hell, even Knocked Up, in all its stoner, male centric brilliance displays an acute sense to the political and social climate through its inspired and intelligent banter. Through its knowledge of pop culture touchstones, Judd Apatow and crew show knowledge of the world that permeates through the hazy, improvisational vibe that is, excuse the pun, intoxicating. SATC seems to think that all that exists in life is your friendships with your girls, love and money. Its an off putting portrait of women that the show's complexity wisely avoided through its nearly 46 hours of narrative.

The cast here is no different than in the show, with the notable inclusion of Jennifer Hudson and they slip back into the familiar roles with general ease. Their performances are as one would expect. Its unfortunate the material isn't. There are two notable sequences that are, quite frankly, hand wringing in their gratuitous and cliche nature. The first, a photo shoot for Carrie to try on wedding dresses for Vogue magazine, is nearly 3 minutes of Sarah Jessica Parker posing with extravagant gowns on while her voice over names the designer. The scene is complete and utter overkill, a outrageous heaping of materialistic fetishizing that serves absolutely no narrative purpose other than to plug famous chic designers. Some women I've spoken to said that it was ok because everything was so beautiful in it. Something tells me that if the next installment of Die Hard spends 3 minutes of screen time showing nothing but half naked models with John McClaine saying said model's name in a voice over, there might be a larger outcry. It serves nearly the same useless purpose. The television series would have either cut or condensed this heavily in order to fit their run time and the results would have been much better.

The second scene, which begins with a surprise visit from Samantha (who now resides in LaLa Land) and the girls screaming about her entrance features another fashion segment, finds Carrie strutting around her closet figuring out what to throw away, while her three compatriots from the bed. As SJP throws herself around her walk in an endless array of vintage wears, the girls lay on their stomachs on the bed, feet in the air, kicking to the music, howling and wailing at her with Yes/No's. I was waiting for Carrie to break into "Sandra Dee" and have Rizzo and Frenchy bust out of one of the moving boxes to join the crew but alas, they did not. The scene feels like a bad outtake from a John Hughes' film, another 2 minutes that could have been left on the cutting room floor. Defenders will claim it’s a giggly scene that is fun and carefree. I'll claim its unnecessary fat that should have been trimmed to help tighten the film.

With my vitriol nearly spent, I must admit that there are moments here that work well and feel like a return to the roots of the show. A scene by the pool in Mexico is unforgettable, not only for its frankness but its sharp, snappy dialogue as well. It is a moment that the show had in droves but the film sorely lacks. The film possesses an emotional clarity that is welcome and refreshing, no matter how mundane some of the situations may feel. The show's strength always lay in its ability to accurately portray HUMAN (not just female, some are universal) emotions with a blunt honesty that never backed off the truth. Sure, the men are treated as not much more than cardboard cut outs, unable to cope with their emotions and thoughts, thinking with their dicks rather their minds but few films have total gender neutrality. Even my beloved Knocked Up, a personal pinnacle for the romantic comedy genre, is from a certain male viewpoint and while it is highly critical of male behavior at times, its point of view is never in doubt.

One goes to HBO for challenging, exciting and intelligent programming and SATC was in the first wave of series that announced the network's willingness to push the boundaries. One goes to the film adaptation of SATC for the comfort factor, to revisit these women and their lives, four years down the line and in that, lies the films issues. It lacks the guts to continue to push itself into new and interesting territory. Throughout its six season run, the television series continually altered itself to retain a feeling of freshness and excitement. With the film, for the first time, these characters feel lived in and stale, a remnant of a past era. There is nothing in the film that feels surprising or different. It follows a generic storyline that is compounded by its generic ending. For a show used to walking the high wire, this down to earth return feels unfortunately limp.