It’s time for these girls to do some shopping at the TV and movie oblivion boutique
Like the host burdened with the houseguest from hell who won’t leave, I have had enough of these women. And because they are fictional, it’s time for them to die.
Let me start by saying that I was a HUGE fan of Sex and the City as a television show. I thought it was very clever, well-written, and the cast fit their respective roles perfectly. I really enjoyed season one when the show included asides, the man (or woman) on the street type commentary on the episode’s theme that broke the fourth wall (though, sadly, those were discontinued in season two). I later found some of Candace Bushnell’s columns archived on the web and also purchased the book on which the series was based and enjoyed all very much.
I always felt that part of the success of the show was based on the fact that each half-hour episode was like a little nugget of the girls’ lives and that little appetizing bit was a teaser, making me hungry for more. And who didn’t want more? It was great writing, never boring, written by real people (a lot of them women) who had lived those adventures long before they were fodder for the small screen. Their lives could be viewed vicariously by me and millions more who saw each of the girls—Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha—as someone they knew or who they were themselves, either as a composite or a whole.
To add frosting to this cake, these girls dressed in beautiful clothes and shoes, lived and shared their exciting, martini-and-men filled lives with each other, and took pride and happiness in each others’ successes and commiserated when there was disappointment, unhappiness or failure. These were people everyone can relate to but don’t necessarily have access to in their lives.
But when it was announced that SATC was going to be made into a movie, I was skeptical. Part of their TV success was the “less is more” factor—the little bit that tantalized and left the audience wanting more.
But sometimes more is just more and it’s just too much. The first movie was two-and-a-half hours of girls who seemed to have an overblown sense of entitlement as they bitched, moaned, and whined when life didn’t go their way (in other words, the script sort of reflected what life is like for a lot of us non-screen mortals).
And worst of all, the first movie made these women define themselves primarily through the men in their lives (or the lack thereof).
From what I’ve read, this second round of SATC focuses on their dissatisfaction with the lives they achieved but complained about not having in the first movie. And yet, they still have access to more money, credit cards, beautifully decorated homes, and expensive clothing, shoes, and accessories than most of the population could ever dream of. In other words, there is no satisfying these whiny wenches.
I once saw them nicknamed on a blog as Prissy, Slutty, and Bossy (I will throw in Neurotic and you can have fun matching the name to respective character) and they are all those things and more—irritating, entitled, over-indulged, and whiny. Because they are works of fiction, I say let’s kill them off now… Michael Patrick King will never let them be happy with the many blessings that they do have in their lives.
Since I am a subscriber to HBO, they will appear on a television near me at some point. But for right now, they are also one more thing: they are not getting my $10 at the box office.