Let's Talk Sex

So yesterday, my friend Anna dragged me and her sis Calan to none other than "Sex and the City" the movie.

I still have absolutely no idea how she convinced us. Calan had never seen it, and for me it was always something I could take or leave, watching occasionally when it would pop up on late night tv. But we were bored, and maybe a little sloshed, so we gave the green light.

What were we thinking?! If we had known it would be a two and a half hour opus to materialism (what Carrie calls the two l's, labels and love) we would have left early. It was near eleven at night when we finally left the theatre, leaving us unable to get some much-needed coffee, and subsequently putting Calan in a very poor mood.

I had never particularly cared either way about the Carrie and Big coupling. Chris Noth is very charismatic in the role, but the fact that she always kept coming back sort of made the character of Carrie a victim. I had always preferred Aleksandr Petrovsky, for obvious reasons, I had an enormous crush on Mikhail Baryshnikov when I was seven and was heartbroken to learn that he was in fact, quite old. And if anything, this movie made her seem like even more of a sadist, a sadist that could be bought off with a big closet, and Big, for his part, more of a commitment-phobe than ever. In any event, we all knew what was going to happen in the end, and why they had to drag it out for all of time, I shall never understand.

Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda all had their moments in the plotline limelight, and I always find it hilariously ironic that you will never find much "sex" in title character's life, for that, you must go to Samantha, and in this case, her lusty Italian neighbor in Malibu. Mostly this time she just moped around. Charlotte is as perky as ever, and Kristen Davis had some of the best scenes, becoming protective and a fierce protector of the shattered Carrie from the oblivious Mr. Big.

Another thing I don't understand: Carrie's over the top, ill-fitting wedding gown. Calan, by her own admission, clueless in fashion, even remarked that it gave the toned and tiny Sarah Jessica "torpedo boobs". The girls looked fantastic in their red, blue and black bridesmaid dresses, but the bride looked like she was swimming in a sea of pas de sois. The dialogue too, was cringe-inducing. SATC has always been proponents of corny dialogue and scenes, but this was just much too much of every cliche.

In the end, I wanted to watch to see what crazy, amazing outfits Carrie could come up with, and I was not dissapointed.

Her Dior shoes, her Nina Ricci sweaters, the way she pulls off thigh-high socks. All was desirable and just off-beat enough to keep you wanting more.

It wasn't a complete waste of time, but I wish I had just waited to rent it instead of wasting a night of good fun on a mediocre indulgence of entitlement.