No sex and no city makes Carrie a shrill bitch

By Emma Ornholt

Sex and the City fans around the world rejoiced when buzz began circulating about a new installment of the popular franchise. The widely popular award-winning series ran from 1998 to 2004, and was widely totted for its (arguably) liberating portrayal of female sexuality mixed with unabashed raunchiness, not to mention the clothes. The show managed to not only accentuate, but single-handedly create popular trends in fashion. Its popularity is also attributed to its bold, comedic writing outlining the sexcapades of four feisty, lusty, thirty-something women.

The first film installment was released in 2008 and was meant as a continuation of the series. The movie followed the protagonist, sex columnist Carrie Bradshaw; as she finally tied the knot with her long-time love Mr. Big. This sequel is also a continuation of the interwoven relationship-based stories of Carrie and her best friends Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda.

Sex and the City 2, however, is merely an extended episode, with a deceiving title; there is minimal sex, and the city (New York) is not the main setting of the film.

The movie begins with amusing, but all-too-quick flashbacks of the girls in their 1980’s glory days. Back to present day as they attend a lavish gay wedding of two prominent supporting characters. There is a prolonged dance number featuring an overly botoxed Liza Minnelli flailing her shriveled body to Beyonce’s “Single Ladies”. Unfortunately this trend continues with other needless cameo appearances from the likes of Miley Cyrus, Penelope Cruz, and that guy from Project Runway.

The main plot of the film focuses on Carrie as she struggles with the mediocrity of her married life. She fusses over trivial issues of her current marital state, with minimal, quickly resolved pseudo-conflict. Charlotte, the “prude” of the series, who has consistently strived for marriage and children, discovers the pitfalls of such an existence. This involves worrying about her attractive, braless nanny, whose slow-motion running scene is one of the more enjoyable of the film. The lawyer Miranda, defined by her quick wit and delightfully obsessive behaviors, has been severely watered down. Her storyline is sparse and irrelevant, with her lack of airtime delivering a serious blow to the series' cynical fan base. Samantha Jones, the libido-driven sexpot of the series, is the only redeeming character in the film. She incites the most laughs and is portrayed truest to her outrageous character’s original design, bringing some much needed copulating into the mix.

Halfway through the film, the foursome head to Abu Dhabi for a luxurious weekend thanks to a chance PR opportunity for Samantha. There are a few pitying references to women wearing burkas, a fragile attempt to instill a feminist overtone. This culminates in a cringe-worthy scene in which the ladies sing a karaoke rendition of “I Am Woman” to a cheering Arab crowd. This sends a confusing message, as one would think it was saying, “Throw off your hijabs and put on your Manolos, ladies!” If it was as awkward to shoot as it was to watch, it must have been an especially gruesome work day.

When Carrie unexpectedly runs into a handsome former love interest, one hopes and begs for any kind of conflict to arrive. If there was any ounce of plot in this convoluted story, this would be its climax. Would be, but the movie focuses on Carrie’s shrill reactions instead of exploring exciting possible outcomes to this situation.

For fans of the series, this movie is a surefire disappointment. The clever, frank, and engrossing writing behind the series is notably absent. Futile jokes and puns are tossed about but are rarely awarded with sizable laughs. For a once fresh show with brazen dialogue, this sequel is tired and tedious. However, in all honesty, the clothes are fabulous.

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