Starring: Sarah Jessica Parker, Kristin Davis, Kim Cattrall, Cynthia Nixon
Directed by: Michael Patrick King (“Sex and the City”)
Written by: Michael Patrick King (“Sex and the City”)
While we might have given New York City fashionista and professional bachelorette Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) free reign to dole out anecdotes about her single life throughout the late 90s and entire Aughts, it would probably be a good idea now if she tucked away those six-inch heels before somebody gets hurt.
After a half dozen entertaining seasons on TV and one frivolous feature film two years ago, director/writer Michael Patrick King refuses to recognize when enough is enough. Instead, King unleashes “Sex in the City 2,” a sequel larger in scope, style and senselessness and less focused on script.
It may be just the fix indiscriminate female fans of the series need to get them through the summer, but for everyone else the antics of the fab four – Carrie, Samantha (Kim Cattrall), Charlotte (Kristin Davis), and Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) – are beyond intolerable.
Attempting to squeeze herself into a mold she does not fit (the new generation’s feminist extraordinaire), Carrie, the self-absorbed character most female fans flock to for a vicarious fantasy, is once again up to her neck in emotional turmoil.
Marriage life with Mr. Big (Chris Noth) is not how she envisioned it. Feeling like her wings have been clipped because Big would rather watch TV and order in instead of painting the town like they used to, Carrie decides she needs to freshen up her life with a trip to Abu Dhabi with her gal pals.
The all-expenses-paid trip courtesy of Samantha’s potential new business partner comes at the most opportune time. Not only is Carrie suffering from cabin fever, Miranda is stressed out about how her job keeps her from spending enough time with Steve (David Eigenberg) and her son (going out of the country makes sense), Charlotte is worried about Harry (Evan Handler) cheating on her with the braless Irish nanny (Alice Eve), and Samantha is trying to handle her new life of hormonal hell with enough pills and creams to start her own pharmacy.
It is obvious King seriously thought he had an epic story here that could fill a bloated 145 minutes of ridiculous dialogue and enough politically incorrect Muslim humor to get them on at least one extremist’s hit list. While in Abu Dhabi, the ladies, who already look like their faces are melting away even before they go camel riding in the desert, share their thoughts on love, sex, relationships, and motherhood with little substance to offer on any of the topics.
Even as lightweight and cloaked in hypocrisy as the first film was, at least it felt like an offshoot to the TV series – a bad four episodes but part of the whole nonetheless. With “Sex and the City 2” the women have nothing besides their names and unattractive attitudes to link them back to what made their friendships interesting in the first place.
Tossing out random scenes where the foursome sings Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman” at a karaoke bar or wonders how Arab women in abayas can live in a culture where Chanel and Dolce & Gabbana don’t exist doesn’t cut it. We’re not sure how much longer Carrie can continue to pretend like she’s the voice of female empowerment (50 years old? 60?!) but let’s just be relieved to know Manolo Blahnik has yet to design their version of a therapeutic shoe.