I have been awaiting Sex And The City 2 since the release of the first movie nearly two years ago. Last summer when the production pictures showed up on the internet my heart raced thinking of the great night my girls and I were going to have a year from then. It’s THAT movie for most women and I walked into the theater expecting THAT experience. Instead I walked out feeling for the first time in 12 years, I have nothing in common with four materialistic sanctimonious women of New York City.
The one thing that I loved about Sex and The City was the cross generational and cultural aspects of friendship and love. Regardless of race or age, women all over the world see glimpses of themselves in Carrie, Miranda, Samantha, and Charlotte. Two years ago, my two best friends and our mothers went to see the movie together. Single and married, we loved these women and saw them as extensions of us. As a self proclaimed Carrie, in this movie, I didn’t know who she was. When I loved her daring sense of style, I wondered what the hell was that black crown on her head? When I was once in awe of her fierce independence and uncanny ability to ask for what she needed in a relationship, I found her chronically despondent and an overzealous nag. I completely sympathized with Mr. Big and understood his need to get away.
The Charlotte I knew wouldn’t wear a Valentino skirt while making cupcakes with her children. Charlotte York circa 2004 would actually do something about her suspicions with Harry and the Nanny instead of just read a tabloid and sends constant text messages. I would even argue that Charlotte, the most conservative of the bunch, won’t have hired a bouncy blonde bombshell as a live in nanny in the first place.
The majority of my distaste for the film came from the whole fiasco in Abu Dhabi. Am I the only person that found their obsession with Muslim women clothing and demission of cultural regulations self righteous and offensive? As Carrie and the girls watched a group of Islamic women eat French fries, I didn’t see the sophisticated cultural aware women of New York City. I saw debutantes from Dallas Texas watching wild animals in their habitat with awe and fear. Living in New York City, one of the most cultural cities in the world, it’s hard for me to believe this was the first time seeing women eating while wearing a Niqab. And do we really believe the scene with Samantha standing over spilled condoms and screaming obscenities in the middle of a Souq is suppose to receive laughter instead of damn right fear for her life? And lastly, are we really suppose to believe that after covering themselves in Burqas so they wouldn’t be arrested, Carrie would throw out her leg to get a cab driver to stop for them? Again, I can’t help but ask, who are these women? Women without an understanding and sensitivity for various cultures are not women that I relate to or look forward to spending time with. These are not the women I feel in love with. These are women I run away from.
Overall is seems that the main purpose of the film was to create a place for immense product placement. A walking talking glossy magazine. Sex and The City 2 completely overlooked the one element that allowed women all over the world to fall deeply in love with these women; the complexities of love and relationships and the importance of maintaining true and real female friendships. There were moments of rich, true emotion but they were just that, moments covered by materialistic opulence and excessive cultural ignorance. I sat in the theater lost, frustrated, as if I was looking back at an old relationship wondering why did I give so much of my time and effort to someone who never understood me in the first place.
Sex and The City, a franchise that helped shaped my understanding of love and self-expression, I am no longer apart of. Unlike a failed relationship, I look forward to watching reruns and DVDs, so I can stay in love with The Sex And The City of the past, and stay away from whatever they try to bring me in the future.
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