|Sex and the City 2|
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Degrading to the characters, embarrassing to behold, this mess should never have gone past the storyboard.
The characters are aging slowly downwards into caricatures of their former vivacious selves. Carrie’s sense of verve and fun has left the building. She looks stretched and skeletal in the outrageous haute duds she once carried with adorable aplomb. In fact, Sarah Jessica Parker looks like butter that has been spread over too much bread. (Lord of the Rings reference for whomever can catch it!)
Charlotte has taken her lovely family situation and turned it into a Martha Stewart perfectionist hell. With a doting husband, a full time nanny and housekeeper, and full time non-working status, you’d think our gal pal Char would be be less full-time neurotic. Such a sweet, pretty, wealthy lady should not take her PTA duties so seriously. Unlike most moms, she can actually afford a weekend away at a quiet spa each month. Or perhaps try some nice Valium. Didn’t she used to do yoga?
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Miranda – staid, cranky Miranda – ends up the joyful, gleeful highlight of this stinkbug film. Having quit her rotten job, she’s on a high, more relaxed than we’ve ever seen her. She laughs, she giggles, she yells fun little geek lines like Abu-Dhabi-Doo!…who is this likeable girl, and can I just take HER on my vacation next time?
Which leaves me to Samantha. Frak me. I feel so terribly embarrassed for Kim Cattral, forced to act like an lost, menopausal, outraged, overaged, completely unprofessional skank – on the prized tour junket that was to be a feather in Samantha’s public-relations cap. Oh Sam. You looked sad and desperate; no longer the slinky, smart, confident cougar of years past. You looked finally ready to be committed – but to a mental ward, not to a man. How’s that oversexed life of freedom working out for you now?
Samantha, Carrie and Charlotte are no longer allowed on my vacations.
In fact, aside from Cynthia Nixon’s surprisingly endearing turn, everyone seemed rather unlikable. Screechy. Insensitive. They flash their flesh and garish couture where local women are covered head to toe lest they be beaten for law breaking. Our girls barely mention the poor economy back home while the director treats us to no less than five solid minutes of lush, gilded hotel room porn. With individual male foot servants that must be officially dismissed at night or can’t go home. With four lux chauffered cars – one for each gal – and the kind of monstrous amounts of food, clothes, silks and frippery that caused Marie Antoinette to be separated from her head. Where is an uprising when you need one?
All I wanted was to see sweet Aiden again. Big is a patient man and a much better choice for the volatile Carrie, but there is something just so clean and caring and wholesome about ex-fiance Aiden. His short scenes proved to me that things worked out for the best; that for him, Carrie is naught but trouble. I hope he goes home and continues along the joyful, humble life that his gentle nature deserves.
There were a few giggles at some good/bad puns (OK, I did LOL at ‘Lawrence of my Labia”). There were a lot of uncomfortable twitters at what was no doubt intended to be leg slappy fun. And there were hideously grotesquely jaw dropping moments of bad taste that floored me. Almost anything could have been a PeeTime, to be frank. But if you can save it up for the big set piece of our girls singing I am Woman in scary couture shoulder spikes (yes, Samantha again) – go then!!! Just go and get yourself a big bag of popcorn.
Missing this overlong, overwrought, embarrassing and boring karaoke set piece is simply my gift to you.
And while I added four “official PeeTimes” to the RunPee database, as long as you don’t miss seeing Aiden in the third act of the show, just get up and go (whenever you desire) during the entire 2.5 hour run time. Leave for as long as you like!
For reals. Once we got to the desert scenes, I honestly felt that I was watching some kind of drag queen spoof of my previously fun, quirky witty little show.
And now it’s time to let it die. The drag queen spoof would surely be more fun.
In closing, I’d like to apologize to the United Arab Emirates for this disrespectful pile of dren. Not all American women act like these entitled, spoiled, self-centered harpies. Who ever thought it would be ‘cute’ to send our rich slutty fashionista gal-pals to conservative Abu Dhabi needs a whack upside their gay little head (here’s looking at you, King).
This film rates my first F, ever. Let’s not do this again.
What did you think about Sex and the City 2? Share your thoughts about the movie in the comments below.
Co-Creator of RunPee, Chief of Operations, Content Director, and Managing Editor. RunPee Jilly likes galaxy-spanning sci fi, superhero sagas, fantasy films, YA dystopians, action thrillers, chick flicks, and zany comedies, in that order…and possesses an inspiringly small bladder. In fact, that little bladder sparked the creation of RunPee. (Good thing she’s learned to hold it.)