Movie Review: 'Sex and the City 2'

SPOILER ALERT!

Sex and the City 2 begins with Stanford and Anthony’s big gay wedding, complete with 16-man choir, swans in a pond, and Liza Minelli officiating—before she strips to a sequin dress and sings Single Ladies. The sequence perfectly encapsulates what SATC has become: tired and so over the top it’s hard to relate anymore.

At this point, the writers are having trouble coming up with a relevant or interesting storyline. Picking up a couple of years after Carrie and Big’s wedding, we’re shown Carrie and friends’ current lives, complete with their faux problems: Carrie’s marriage to a boring Mr. Big (Chris Noth), who would rather stay in the couple’s ridiculously gorgeous penthouse watching old movies than hitting the town, is suffocating her. Domestic queen Charlotte (Kristin Davis) is finding motherhood trying and worries that her maid is after her hubby. Lawyer Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) quits her job after putting up with a sexist boss. And Samantha (Kim Cattrall) is Samantha—she’s looking for her next bed romp while trying to stave off menopause with hormones and gallons of creams.

What are the girls to do but go on an all-expense-paid trip to Abu Dhabi, courtesy of a sheik who wants Samantha to handle publicity for his hotels?

The girls fit in in the Middle East exactly as awkwardly as you’d expect: They show too much cleavage and ride camels in the desert wearing full couture and heels. Samantha gets arrested for kissing on a public beach and there’s a particularly painful scene in which the foursome is chased down by a mob of angry men and rescued by women wearing Dior and Halston under their hijabs and abayas. By the time the girls hit the stage dripping in expensive (and sadly, mostly tacky) clothes to sing “I Am Woman,” your eyes are tired of rolling. We get it. Female empowerment is awesome. Snooze.

And what about the fab four’s relationship and work problems? They’re hardly given any weight and mostly resolved by the time the women hit the sand. If the chief complaint about the first movie was that it was a downer, this one goes out of its way to prove that it can be fun and light. Unfortunately it ends up magnifying the worst instincts of the franchise: persistent vapidness.

 

 

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About this author

Damarys Ocaña Perez,

Damarys Ocaña Perez is Director of Editorial Content at Latina Media Ventures. She leads its magazine, Latina, the pre-eminent beauty, fashion, culture and lifestyle magazine for acculturated U.S. Hispanic women and is responsible for maintaining Latina’s voice, vision and mission across all LMV platforms. Born in Havana and raised in Miami, she lives in Brooklyn with her husband and daughter.

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