In going from TV show to feature film, "Sex and the City" is more colorful, fashion-mad, and ambitious than ever, but it's lost much of its humor and its edge. The TV series had an irreverent tone and each 30-minute episode was based around a central concern. The movie goes for sentiment over satire, and never develops a unified theme. OK, it all has to do with romance and happiness, but so does every romantic comedy. I expected something more pointed.
Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) goes from "Heaven on Fifth Avenue"--Mr. Big's penthouse apartment with a huge closet--to relationship hell, when Big gets another attack of commitment-phobia. The on-and-off Carrie-Big stuff has gotten old, and Carrie's love for him makes her look desperate, naive, or immature. And after a lot of scenes of Carrie's post-breakup depression, the movie gets her back together with Big in a hasty and unconvincing way.
Miranda, like Carrie, gets a "heavy" storyline, but it's awkwardly handled. It's hard to believe that Steve would ever cheat on Miranda, and the script doesn't even try to explain his motivations. Still, Cynthia Nixon (probably the most talented of the four actresses) made me feel for Miranda, and I love her tossed-off quips.
Kim Cattrall made me laugh as Samantha, and it's refreshing to see a 50-year-old woman portrayed as such a sexual being. But it's awkward for Samantha to live in LA and constantly fly cross-country to see her friends--and that makes the ending of her story predictable, too.
Motherhood has done nothing to mature Charlotte (Kristin Davis)--she's more daffy and cartoonish than ever, with a cutesy happily-ever-after storyline. Again, I'd prefer something sharper, perhaps about how Charlotte juggles her identities as WASP daughter, Jewish wife, and mother to a Chinese-born little girl. (Charlotte's child, Lily, is also irritating--too docile.)
I appreciate the impulse to add a younger, non-white woman to the cast (Carrie's assistant Louise, played by Jennifer Hudson), but her character exists to support Carrie, not to illuminate what "sex and the city" means for the next generation of New York girls. Most of the male characters are underwritten as well, despite the nearly 2.5-hour running time.
Ultimately, the "Sex and the City" movie wants to have its Magnolia Bakery cupcakes and eat them too. It suggests that Carrie was wrong to get caught up planning a fancy wedding instead of focusing on what she and Big truly desired. But it also wants the audience to ooh and aah over the montage of designer wedding gowns. The movie says that guys may hurt you, but your gal pals will always come through--then says it's OK to mock a busy working mom for not having perfectly waxed her bikini line. And then suggests that if Miranda had "maintained" herself better, Steve might not have strayed. (To her credit, Miranda takes offense at this.) The annoying new song from the movie asks "Labels or Love?" and the movie responds that you cannot be a true woman unless you have BOTH. Perhaps that's just wish-fulfillment. But it's more materialistic, and much less sexy, than the TV series that I remember.
Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) goes from "Heaven on Fifth Avenue"--Mr. Big's penthouse apartment with a huge closet--to relationship hell, when Big gets another attack of commitment-phobia. The on-and-off Carrie-Big stuff has gotten old, and Carrie's love for him makes her look desperate, naive, or immature. And after a lot of scenes of Carrie's post-breakup depression, the movie gets her back together with Big in a hasty and unconvincing way.
Miranda, like Carrie, gets a "heavy" storyline, but it's awkwardly handled. It's hard to believe that Steve would ever cheat on Miranda, and the script doesn't even try to explain his motivations. Still, Cynthia Nixon (probably the most talented of the four actresses) made me feel for Miranda, and I love her tossed-off quips.
Kim Cattrall made me laugh as Samantha, and it's refreshing to see a 50-year-old woman portrayed as such a sexual being. But it's awkward for Samantha to live in LA and constantly fly cross-country to see her friends--and that makes the ending of her story predictable, too.
Motherhood has done nothing to mature Charlotte (Kristin Davis)--she's more daffy and cartoonish than ever, with a cutesy happily-ever-after storyline. Again, I'd prefer something sharper, perhaps about how Charlotte juggles her identities as WASP daughter, Jewish wife, and mother to a Chinese-born little girl. (Charlotte's child, Lily, is also irritating--too docile.)
I appreciate the impulse to add a younger, non-white woman to the cast (Carrie's assistant Louise, played by Jennifer Hudson), but her character exists to support Carrie, not to illuminate what "sex and the city" means for the next generation of New York girls. Most of the male characters are underwritten as well, despite the nearly 2.5-hour running time.
Ultimately, the "Sex and the City" movie wants to have its Magnolia Bakery cupcakes and eat them too. It suggests that Carrie was wrong to get caught up planning a fancy wedding instead of focusing on what she and Big truly desired. But it also wants the audience to ooh and aah over the montage of designer wedding gowns. The movie says that guys may hurt you, but your gal pals will always come through--then says it's OK to mock a busy working mom for not having perfectly waxed her bikini line. And then suggests that if Miranda had "maintained" herself better, Steve might not have strayed. (To her credit, Miranda takes offense at this.) The annoying new song from the movie asks "Labels or Love?" and the movie responds that you cannot be a true woman unless you have BOTH. Perhaps that's just wish-fulfillment. But it's more materialistic, and much less sexy, than the TV series that I remember.