Sex and the City (2008)
A New York writer on sex and love is finally getting married to her Mr. Big. But her three best girlfriends must console her after one of them inadvertently leads Mr. Big to jilt her.
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Sex and the City really is a fabulously entertaining film. It's nothing that will win an Oscar or anything, but if you like the essence of Sex and the City, then you'll love this movie. The cast of course includes Sarah Jessica Parker, Cynthia Nixon, Kristen Davis, and Kim Cattrall. The four go through some pretty substantial changes in their lives during this film. The moxie mainly focuses on Carries relationship with Big. But it also contains subplots like Miranda's marriage, and Samantha living in California with her beau. I have not watched the TV show yet, but I still really enjoyed the movie. I liked it because it is funny, romantic, and has some dramatic aspects too. The writing was pretty well done and I liked it, it worked for the film. Fans will not be disappointed. The costume design of course is absolutely heavenly! The fashion was always a huge part of the TV show. The shoes, the dresses, everything. The actresses had great chemistry throughout and I think Carrie and Big make a great couple, theirs is a relationship to root for during the movie. The other women and their subplots have things going on that make you root for them in end. I suggest this for a fun girls night! Of course guys can enjoy it too though. 8/10 for Sex and the City.
Before any of you accuse me of being a furry-legged feminist, I'm going to admit I may have furry legs, but I'm a guy. So stick that in your Bic and smoke it. I don't even know what that means.As my opening sentence might imply, I was offended by this movie because, unlike the groundbreaking TV series that spawned it, a series which didn't just flaunt girl-power but was actually a nice spin on human independence across all genders, Sex and the City the Movie is just a regurgitation of the age old Hollywood obsession with getting married as the pinnacle of human achievement. In other words, the entire plot centers around Carrie acting like a giddy (or depressed) schoolgirl consumed with nothing but the idea of marriage. Not even romance, I'm talking about just plain old walk-down-the-aisle marriage.Endless montages of wedding dress tryouts set to 80s music (not even the good stuff) are so laughably cliché, I thought for a minute I was watching the deleted scenes from Grease. The difference is that Carrie is not a beauty school dropout; we are supposed to believe (as it is repeatedly shoved in our faces) that she is a stinking rich, successful woman who ostensibly has the brains and ferocity to conquer New York City by herself, and yet when a marriage prospect enters the picture, she turns into a quivering, braindead reject from a George Romero flick.OK, but when life suddenly takes a downward turn for her, I sat up and thought: "Ok! Now this is where her character develops a soul." This is where the out-of-touch elite socialite comes crashing back to humanity and is forced to deal with the same problems that us regular schleps must deal with on a daily basis. Y'know, things like fixing our miserable lives by using our brains.Oh wait, she and her friends just throw money around, pay people to repair the damage and go back to shoe shopping like nothing ever happened.Are you familiar with the term "deus ex machina"? It's a theater term from ancient Greek days meaning "God on the machine" and it refers to a type of conflict resolution where some twit dressed as God is lowered onto the stage on a goofy contraption so he can wave his hands and fix the entire mess. Well, here the recurring moral of the story seems to be "Dior ex machina," or "rich people don't have problems like you worthless schmucks who wallow in trivial things like... bills."Building on that, let's take a minute to talk about how out-of-touch this movie is with social issues: the flamboyant gay stereotypes for comic relief, the use of a pit bull to denote a bad neighborhood, the token black chick introduced in the 2nd half (but note the segregated parties she attends, not the rich folk). This movie is so out of touch with real life you'd think the screenplay was a collaboration between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton. The amount of fur worn in this movie should speak for itself. Note: fur never looked good on anyone. Does anyone really think looking like a frickin grizzly bear hobbling down 5th Avenue is sexy? Sarah Jessica Parker and Kim Cattral look as dopey in fur as Orson Welles in that scene in Citizen Kane, only Kane was supposed to look stupid.10'll get ya 20, this was not written or produced by the people who gave us the TV series. It was a different crew of Hollywood goofballs who beat the series into the antiquated box office formula that's been around since the Stone Age. (Yup, just checked, different people altogether).In the end, I was so thoroughly aggravated by this movie, a total corruption of the TV series which I had enjoyed but am now starting to question, that I immediately wrote a letter addressed to Hollywood stating: "Dear Hollywood, I respectfully submit my request to punch Sex and the City. No, not just the people in it, I want to punch the entire collective entity." Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to practice my left hook.
Fans of "Sex and the City" will love the movie version. Like the HBO series that gave birth to it, the movie is lots of fun, but it's no frivolous romp. The show's great ambition, always present, becomes even more pronounced in the movie - to document the emotional life and values of cosmopolitan women of a particular generation. It's as if its creators realized the series' significance over the course of its run, and that shift in the direction of importance - subtle, but definite - continues with this movie. Under the levity, there's a core seriousness about presenting these women's lives, one emphasized by the willingness of "Sex and the City" to grow and mature along with its characters. Those who know these characters will, of course, pick up on nuances and associations that novices will miss. Yet even viewers coming in cold will appreciate "Sex and the City" as the best American movie about women so far this year, and probably the best that will be made this year. Indeed, at the rate Hollywood has been going, it may stand as the best women's movie until "Sex and the City II," if that ever comes along. Coming in, Michael Patrick King, the movie's writer-director, had two difficult tasks: He had to introduce the characters to a new audience without irritating fans of the show, and he had to take a series that ended perfectly and un-end it, without seeming arbitrary. He knocks off the first task easily, (re-)introducing the principals during a credits sequence narrated by the main character, Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker), a best-selling author in New York City. There's Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall), a successful publicist with a ravenous sexual appetite. There's Charlotte York (Kristin Davis), a gentle, princess-like wife and mother. And there's Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia Nixon), a lawyer and buttoned-down cynic, living in Brooklyn with her husband and son.Un-ending the perfectly ended series takes a little more time. For the first 10 minutes or so, the movie hovers in place, emphasizing (and, for first-timers, introducing) the status quot. But then, the gears gradually move into place. Four years have passed. Carrie is still seeing "Mr. Big" - whose name is now revealed to be John James Preston (Chris Noth) - and the two decide to get married. This soon turns into plans for the fashion marriage of the century, with a guest list of 200 and a gown by Vivienne Westwood. But, of course, things can't happen too smoothly. Meanwhile, Samantha is dissatisfied with her life in Los Angeles, even though she is still in love with her much-younger boyfriend, Smith (Jason Lewis), and Miranda and her impossibly sweet husband, Steve (David Eigenberg), are having marriage trouble. Though the laughs are frequent and the movie sparkles with glitz and fashion, an air of middle-aged disappointment is sometimes present, a realization of limits, of having to choose between imperfect options. Suddenly, the women are most definitely in their 40s, and so their interaction with younger women is different, sometimes long-suffering, sometimes almost motherly. Carrie takes on a personal assistant (Jennifer Hudson, who's charming) and gives her sisterly advice, the hard- earned wisdom of 20 years in the New York trenches. The mature vibe shows that "Sex and the City" is elastic and capable of bringing in new elements of women's experience. It clocks in at a hefty 145 minutes, but all that means is that it's like watching five episodes of the TV show in succession. Think of it not as a long movie but as the equivalent of an entire TV season muscled into one big mega dose. The allotment of screen time never seems obviously apportioned, but each actress gets a chance to shine. Charlotte's life is the most stable in this installment, but Davis has some of the best comic moments, and Cattrall shows a slight mellowing (and a definite deepening) in Samantha. As Miranda, Nixon is just brilliant, presenting her as someone increasingly locked into the patterns of her own personality, less hopeful and verging on bitterness. At the same time, underneath it, she's painfully sensitive. Parker is lovely, alive to every nuance of feeling, her face the film's locus of meaning. Her lack of vanity is becoming. When Carrie gets beaten up emotionally, Parker allows herself to look beat up. In one's 40s, a person doesn't take an emotional beating and wake up the next morning looking as fresh as a 20-year-old. Parker lets us see Carrie's, and her own, true face. There's something alive here. There's a feeling about this movie, that it's not some perfunctory cinematic appendix to a popular series, but the beginning of a whole new string of films. There's certainly no artistic reason "Sex and the City" can't be the women's equivalent of "Star Trek," with human emotion being the final frontier. Like outer space, that frontier is infinite.
On the next season of Sex and the City (1998-2004), Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) is about to marry Mr. Big (Chris Noth) but is jilted at the wedding. Samantha (Kim Cattrall), Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) and Charlotte (Kristin Davis) take her on the honeymoon she should have had in Mexico, then she rebuilds her life. Meanwhile Samantha gets used to the challenges of relationship life, Cynthia's bo cheats on her and puts their marriage in jeopardy and Charlotte gets pregnant! Guest starring Academy Award winner Jennifer Hudson and Academy Award nominee Candice Bergen.Yes it reads like the back of a Season 7 DVD packet back because Sex and the City (2008) is just that, another season of the highly celebrated HBO TV Show masquerading as a movie. That in itself, would probably be enough to entice its primary audience and to you I say kudos. Read no further, go enjoy yourselves are they gone? Ugh. If I may be honest, I liked the four episodes of the show I watched. While I am far from the primary demographic here, I found it kind of refreshing that a show taking place in upscale New York City circa 1998 could conjure up such interesting if vapid characters. That and before Game of Thrones (2011-Present) and The L Word (2004-2009), it was a premium cable show not afraid to show some skin. Plus is it possible for a straight man to find Mario Cantone hilarious? You're darn right! But come on! Was this movie really necessary? The only fathomable reason for this useless, listless piece of chintzy trash to exist is to give anthropologists an ironic before picture of the 2008 financial meltdown. Four aging (but still fabulous, fabulous I say!) women walking around in designer clothes complaining about their dreary upper-crust life, blissfully unaware of the possible hurdles they will have to face in a few months time. If this were real New York, ground zero for the Great Recession, Carrie would be selling her Dolce Gabana pumps for a hot meal. Miranda would be divorced because finances are a bigger reason for divorce rates than fidelity and Charlotte would be on food stamps. So much for happy endings where people find sweet, sweet, love in the big city.This movie attempts to be about love but it really isn't about love at all. If it were it wouldn't have been nearly as episodic or emotionally unaffecting. No this movie is a blatant attempt to cash in on the franchise; calmly stroking the back of those still holding on to Carrie's heyday adventures as if they can live vicariously through the popular author and her sisterhood of traveling mini skirts. Oh, it would be so nice to be able to pay for two different upscale apartments in Manhattan and still have enough cash to hire a token black assistant but as the credits role did you really get any value from this movie? Anything other than the feeling of déjà vu and amnesia I got while watching Sex and the City? I really do feel as if I have forgotten this before.The movie ends in probably the best way it could have. The four girls walking into an exclusive looking club wearing top-line dresses. They sit and enjoy the eldest of the four's 50th birthday with a small cake and martinis as younger women pass by. While the sentimental and the already converted might see this scene as a blissful farewell/passing of the torch, I see it differently. While the ladies toast to the next 50 years, one thought screamed in my head repeatedly "You're old!"http://theyservepopcorninhell.blogspot.com