For idiots, by idiots: SEX AND THE CITY 2 review

For idiots, by idiots: SEX AND THE CITY 2 review

Jun 03

If you’ve ever been out on the town, and someone’s pointed out a scantily-clad woman in high heels and said “She’s asking for it,” and you’ve laughed or agreed, then you are some degree of evil (or, hopefully, just ignorant). The flipside of this unsavoury coin is that some women are asking for it – asking to be seen as blow-up sex dolls ready to be used by any dude with a popped collar, expensive cologne, and a half-decent pick-up line. Women shaping themselves into the male ideal so that more males will have sex with them is par for the course in our society.

Enter Sex And The City, whose intense fascination with fuck-me shoes, ugly and revealing clothes, and physical attractiveness enforces these sick ideals. Sex And The City 2, the latest offering in the long-running franchise, doesn’t just enforce this women-are-for-sex mentality: it kneels to it and worships it like the latest pair of shoes from some pretentious dickhead’s spring catalogue.

It’s also a shit movie, but that’s a hard fact to remember, as the movie has the same amnesia-inducing qualities as a mallet to the face.

For those of you who don’t know a blessed thing about intercourse in Manhattan (lucky you!), here are some haikus summarising the four main characters of the lauded TV show, as we find them in this movie:

Carrie Bradshaw (pronounced ‘Kerry Breadshahhh’):

Successful writer

Unhappy with stale marriage

Loves her fucking shoes

Miranda alreadyforgotherlastname:

Woman and lawyer

Boss says “shut the fuck up, bitch;”

Just a woman now

Charlotte York / Goldenblatt:

Hires a hot nanny

Complains about hot nanny

Shat herself last time

Samantha Jones:

Fifty-two years old

Will fuck any man at all–

(Hormone supplements)

The plot of this film would barely fit on the back of a matchbox, but I’ll give it a shot: Carrie isn’t happy with her marriage, but after a short holiday and a brief extramarital kiss, she changes her mind. THE END.

Quite apart from being one of the most offensive products ever manufactured, Sex And The City 2 is also outrageously surreal to watch. It is so surreal, in fact, that if asked “what was it about?” a mere ten minutes after watching it, you may find yourself hitting a mental blank (probably caused by the violent brain haemorrhage induced by how stupid the movie was). Did I already mention how forgettable it is?

First off, an observation:

I’m pretty sure I’ve been camping in something made out of the same material as Sarah Jessica Parker’s dress.

Er, okay, what’s it like as a movie?

Michael Patrick King is a master of using the camera incorrectly. It’s amazing – this guy’s got real talent for making interesting things look crushingly boring.

I feel silly laughing at a character’s jokes when all the other characters in the movie have already laughed at it. Do I … Do I just laugh again? But it wasn’t really that funny to begin with. Oh, this is awkward …

By the time the whole show stopped and became a musical for three minutes I was convinced – I’d been kidnapped and drugged and was now hallucinating. There was no other explanation for how utterly ridiculous the scene was.

Out of the 2.5 hours (that’s 150 minutes – and you feel every one of them) of footage assembled into the final cut of SATC2, approximately ten or twenty minutes is actually related to the aforementioned “plot”. The rest of it is loose, flabby fluff that does nothing but evoke echoes of nostalgia in people who have watched the (apparently superior) show on telly.

But what does it say about society?

Clothes aren’t for protection from the elements or personal identification; they’re for looking as tacky and dolled-up as physically possible. No exceptions.

All gay men are rich, have lisps, and adore Liza Minnelli, no matter how far past her use-by date she gets. No exceptions.

Marriage involves getting dragged by your nagging dickhead of a wife to some party you don’t want to go to, when you’re quite happy to watch TV at home. Either that or screaming children and crushing depression. No exceptions.

Islam is evil because it doesn’t allow women to wear Luis Vitton in public. (Nobody appears to remember that time three thousand people were killed in terrorist attacks three blocks from Carrie’s apartment).

I remember when Alice Eve was a respectable and interesting actor, capable of bringing real heart to a shallow and potentially vapid character. In Sex And The City, however, she’s just a pair of unrestrained chest-melons, swaying in the breeze, a prop used to sow jealousy and discord among our fabulous foursome. It’s okay though — she’s a lesbian! That makes it okay, right?

A movie for idiots, by idiots:

Who the heck wears high heels around the house? An idiot, that’s who.

Who adopts two children and then is surprised when she’s expected to raise them too? Again, only an idiot.

Who, at 52, decides there is nothing more important in life than to be in a constant state of arousal and / or intercourse? There’s a trend emerging here.

Who greedily travels to a foreign country without bothering to learn the first thing about their customs or laws? The same person who spends a day or two looking like Marilyn Monroe if Marilyn Monroe were a drag queen (that is to say: idiots).

You may think that, as someone who has spent a grand total of $20 on shoes in past two years, I am not the type of person for whom Sex And The City 2 was made. This isn’t true. To me, SATC2 is nothing less than a crushing indictment of everything that is wrong with Western civilisation, and America in particular (that’s not to say the rest of the world’s off the hook!).

Instead of viewing sex as a fun thing for two consenting adults to do in the privacy of their own home, the girls (especially Samantha Jones) treat sex like it’s one of their unalienable rights: they demand to have it whenever they want, with whomever they want, in whatever quantity they want, and wherever they happen to be at the time — no exceptions.

This same attitude is what got us into this whole sexist mess in the first place, with men (aided by religion) asserting sexual authority over women. Fast-forward a few thousand years, and it’s gotten to the point now where “rape” is the acceptable punch-line to hundreds of popular jokes. If that doesn’t bother you then you won’t be bothered by Sex And The City 2, but that also makes you an ignorant and potentially dangerous person.

Sex And The City 2 is a sick endorsement of a degrading ideal, and to add insult to injury, it’s not even funny or technically competent. As a movie, it’s a catastrophic but hypnotic failure; as a slice of modern culture, it’s contemptible and worthless. As a subject of criticism, it’s the perfect target.

Sex And The City 2