Movie Review: <i>Sex and the City: The Movie</i>

It's easy for the cynic in us to hate this movie for perpetuating unattainable fantasies of real estate, fashion and love. But the truth of the matter is, like the show, Sex and the City: The Movie really does get to the essence of what makes us tick as women: aspiration. We want desperately to believe in this champagne-and-couture world—that we too can be a part of consuming love, enduring friendship, and the front row at Fashion Week.

No, Sex and the City: The Movie is not a perfect film. There are plot holes, implausible circumstances, technical inaccuracies and, yes, even some cheesy dialogue. But haven't we learned from the show that chasing perfection gets you nowhere and leaves you dissatisfied? Why not, instead, appreciate the film for what it is—flaws and all? As for much-maligned two-and-a-half hour running time, the humor, the chemistry, and the many montages of designer gowns more than sustain the film's length. Only the straight men in the audience—and the most hardened of women—will be watching the clock and rolling their eyes. For the rest of us, it's nearly impossible not to give into the fantasy of Sex and the City, possibly for the last time in a good, long while.

Smriti Mundhra

Manolo's at Midnight: read Latina movie blogger Damarys Ocaña's post about the electric atmosphere at the first screening of Sex and the City in Carrie Bradshaw's neighborhood. Then, see what Sex and the City would be like with an all-Latina cast.

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