Movie Gazette

Well, here we go again with the four “Sex and the City” women. Carrie’s (Sarah Jessica Parker) getting a little wiggly in her marriage to Mr. Big (Chris Noth), Charlotte (Kristin Davis) has all the worries of a stressed out mom who thinks her husband might cheat with the nanny, Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) is afraid her career is taking over her life, and Samantha (Kim Cattrall) is fighting the menopause monster. What better way to smooth over a world of hurt than gathering up your besties and trekking to Abu Dhabi on the dime of a ridiculously wealthy sheik?

So, yeah, I’ve never been much into the whole “Sex and the City” thing—I didn’t see the first film, and I’ve only seen a little bit of the TV show. The bits I’ve seen were funny, and I know a lot of the basics, like who everyone is and their respective “type,” plus some of their men and a few of the more infamous stories. Some might say this makes me the wrong girl to do this review, but I tend to think the opposite—I’m going in somewhat blind and unbiased, ready to judge on the merits of the film itself as a stand-alone entity. As such, I judge you harshly Sex and the City 2. I judge you.

Maybe it’s just me, but there’s something unappealing about all four women in this film. Like cartoon caricatures of whichever cliché they’re supposed to fulfill, there’s a shrillness to the characters that, even if you liked them before, has turned them into something that just feels like it shouldn’t have been done. At almost two-and-a-half hours, it’s overblown and overhyped, and even the things I’d always heard about the fabulous fashion and shoes seem to have been overstated. My little prior knowledge of the TV show placed these gals in an environment that seemed like a natural fit—New York City—and somehow I’m pretty sure that was why it worked. And I see the promise of uprooting them and they’re fancy pants and dropping them somewhere unexpected—but their Middle Eastern shenanigans come off rude and condescending, vapid and shallow, and left me wondering what all the fuss has been about all this time. With the first film, there were straight, male friends of mine who recommended it, even saying they teared up once or twice, and that it was really funny. I can’t imagine that happening again—bad puns abound, the writing is atrocious, and … did I mention how long it was? Heck, even MacGruber was smart enough to know its limits, but just like the SatC ladies, this movie feels it’s entitled to your time—but just like them, it’s not.