satc, wtf.

3 Jun

Warning: Spoilers Follow!

I, along with what seemed to be about 2000 other women, went to see the latest sex and the city movie tonight. I did not expect it to be good – I thought the first movie was pretty awful and all the trailers looked like nothing happened. But I was compelled to see it for some reason I can’t quite explain.

It was bad. Really bad. They visited Abu Dhabi and were lavished with luxury. They commented on the oppression of women by talking about how hard it must be to eat french fries while wearing a niqab. Then they sung I am Woman in karaoke. Then Samantha got arrested for being lewd in public. Then she shakes a fist full of condoms at a group of men going to the mosque for cuss sake. At the end of the middle eastern jaunt (that seems to take up the biggest chunk of the movie) they get ushered into a ladies’ book club and burqas are removed to reveal the spring/summer collection of all of [our] favourite designers. The whole thing made me feel uncomfortable. Except for Samantha’s awesome ‘Lawrence of my labia’ call. That made me laugh.

I won’t comment on how the series was better, because frankly Hadley Freeman says it all (and much better than I could).

But after six seasons of looking for love, in two movies I feel like all they have shown us is how these woman seem dissatisfied with what they ended up with. Carrie spends two years decorating her new apartment. Sure, she writes still, but what she writes is now bombed in the New Yorker. She talks about making new rules, but then gets tethered with a rock to remind her she is married, after a predictable indiscretion.

Liza Minelli’s cover of Single Ladies was by far the funniest bit in the movie, and even The Chipmunks: The Squeakuel beat them to that gag.

Maybe I took it all too seriously?

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