Skanks in the Shitty, Reviewed

I was dragged to see "Sex & the City" on opening night, so it's only fair that I make everybody read about it. It was also only fair that I include a chick's perspective so as to better rip into it the way it so richly deserves. The chick in question is the ever-reliable and verbose LCCB, whose review appears first 'cause she's a girl and I'm a sexist bastard who likes women to go first so I can stare at their asses:


LCCB:

Let me begin by saying that I watched "Sex and the City" on HBO, not since the very beginning, but I enjoyed it enough that I subscribed to HBO on cable until the finale and then I promptly cancelled HBO. I liked watching Sex and the City and enjoyed its premise even if I did not always agree with it. Here are these (initially) thirty-something (and one forty-something) single women. It's all about their relationships with men, each other and New York City. I could rant about the lack of black people on the show and their emphasis on materialistic things and blah, blah, blah. But really, the show is fantasy for us in the real world. It isn't about race relations or feeding the poor. It's about shoes and sex and men – lots and lots of men. And it's about women and relationships and friendships. So I liked the show.

Now to the movie. Unless they got it all wrong, I could not possibly hate this movie. In fact, I was sure I was going to enjoy it. And I did. This time they were all forty-somethings (one almost fifty-something) girls still living in New York City. Miranda was her usual unbending, self-righteous self. Charlotte was her flighty, happy, perky self. Samantha was all about the sex even though she was only having sex with Smith and Carrie was all about Big. The one-liners were great, the story was not completely predictable and in terms of style this movie delivered. I suspect that this movie might get an Oscar nomination for costume design or something along those lines.

I have a few criticisms. One of the things I liked about the show was Carrie's monologues and column writing. This was lacking in the movie. There wasn't this continuous dialogue of what was going on inside her head. I missed that. They could have really taken off with these internal dialogues and had the other women have internal dialogues as well but there was very little of this and that was sad. The second gripe is the sex scenes. They seem so cut in. It's as if here is the flow of the story and insert random sex scene here. There is one random, fleeting penis shot. *blush*

I like the way the movie ended, I liked some of the twists (Oh, Steve…) and I LOVED the shoes. Jennifer Hudson's character was OK; I'm not quite sure what she added to the film but hey, they got a black person in there. I thought I would hate the length of the movie (2 hrs. 15 min.) but it didn't seem that long to me. It was a great movie to go see with a great friend. If only we could have had martinis afterwards… unfortunately at that point, it was way past my bedtime.

(LCCB did not provide a rating scale at "press time" 'cause she's difficult & obviously doesn't read this blog as much as she claims she does, so there.)


SCRIBE:

I knew I was in trouble when all the hot chicks could be seen converging on a single point in time and space, namely the 7:00 p.m. showing of "Sex & the City." They were all dolled up in their "love me for my mind" skirts and most of them wore gold pumps because the star of the show with a face like a foot wears them. Thus I followed the sheep into the theater and endured inane chatter of the "Oh, my God!" variety for a good ten minutes both before and during the previews.

Then that lame theme song came on and all the girls screamed and clapped like George Lucas had something to do with it. Well, he didn't. If so, there might have been some deeper commentary on the human condition than, "Guys are, like, such assholes except when they're really nice then they're kinda dumb and innocent because they couldn't possibly be both." Profundity at its finest, to be sure.

The next two & a half hours featured most of the characters from the famed HBO girl power show about two ugly women, one attractive one and a cutey as they weaved through New York's dating scene in search of...well, it depended on the season. I have seen most if not all of the episodes, some edited for regular TV, some on DVD, so I am probably more familiar with the storyline than most other non-gay males.

To be sure, there was some measure of wit to the series, although it was rather fleeting as the years went on. There was also a heapin' helpin' of redundancy as the writers so obviously ran out of fresh ideas and kept bringing back the same dull plots and even duller men over and over. The show was at its best when it focused on the city rather than the women and, sadly, the movie chooses the latter.

Ironically, the film is surprisingly bearable. The actors all seem glad to be back in their roles and the writing gives them a few gems to carry them through the more predictable aspects of the plot. I have to disagree with LCCB when it comes to the narration, however. Nothing irritated me more than Carrie Bradshaw's pointless ramblings and shallow stabs at meaningfulness. One long platitude after another came from her mouth and wound up on the screen of her Mac laptop (told you I saw most of the episodes) and her hackneyed writing just made me want to toss her down a storm drain.

Mercifully, the narration is kept to a minimum. This leaves more room for character development, and there is lots of it...perhaps too much. Carrie was always a colossal bore to me and her incessant whining about not meeting the perfect guy, then whining about meeting him and cheating on him turned her into a bitch of the utmost magnitude and made her impossible to like. So when the curve ball plot twist throws her into a self-pitying fog, I found myself glad for it. She deserved no less.

Other characters fare much better. Miranda, the uber-ball busting hero of lesbians everywhere, refuses to screw her husband and winds up unable to forgive him. This leads us into a sub-plot involving her hypocrisy that is quite poignant. Samantha the Skank can't keep her clit in her pants and is ready to boink her over-sexed neighbor while trying to remain true to her celebrity boyfriend. And Charlotte, the eternally sunny and cute brunette with an ass worth biting, is pretty much the same except for a new development that is meant to shock but is rather expected. Also, there's a black face in the film that adds nothing to the plot. Jennifer Hudson with her massive clevage and lips that were made to pleasure men everywhere functions in the typical "magical negro" role as the savior of the moment who arrives just in time.

It becomes obvious to anyone who knows anything about writing that much of this film is leftover ideas from the season that was never filmed. There are simply too many sight gags for this not to be the case. Still, they are effective. If anything, this movie could have used more humor and less angst from a buncha whiney bitches with nigh-perfect lives.

*** out of *****

GREEN:

I, on the other hand, don't have HBO and never watched an episode of the much ballyhooed series and never had any interest in doing so. Same with the big screen version. If ever I do see this film it will be as a rental or library loaner, therefore I have no opinion right now and have gladly yielded the spotlight to those better qualified to comment.

One other blogger I know of recently watched this film and enjoyed it. All I can say is that when I've taken her advice in the past and read something or watched a film that she suggested, I've enjoyed them. Take that for what it's worth, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it.