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The Review - AT THE MOVIES with DAN CARRIER
Published: 29 May 2008
 

Charlotte, Carrie, Miranda and Samantha flash their designer labels in the Sex and the City movie
Camden cinema | Sex and the City movie review| New York City | Carrie Bradshaw/ Sarah Jessica Parker

SEX AND THE CITY
Directed by Michael Patrick King
Certificate 18

IT’S been four years since the last episode of Sex and the City rolled on Channel 4, and fans of the series will be pleased to know not much has changed for Carrie Bradshaw and her three friends.
Although I have to say sitting through this film regularly made my stomach turn, if you liked the series you will like the film: but at two and a half hours, it’s a little long, and has a box-set DVD feel about it.
It also lacks the gentler humour the series did well. We know that Carrie and her boyfriend, Mr Big, have decided to get married, and it’s full steam ahead regarding the preparations. But as this is a soap opera, it’s not all sweetness and straightforward.
And if they solve one personal problem, then another will, guaranteed, raise its blow-dried head moments later. Never mind. Life may be hard, but it’s nothing a waltz down the shops on Fifth Avenue followed by a long, boozy lunch can’t cure. Just until the next personal “disaster” comes along.
The other stars are the products this lot rave about: Carrie gets a Vivienne Westwood dress to wear on her big day, and we have regular shots of people using iPhones and Carrie swinging a Manolo Blahnik bag about – the shoe designer manages to get name-checked visually three times in 30 seconds. Is this a record?
But this film fails for anyone who is not a SATC fan because it lacks the charm of the series. Parts are supposed to be witty and, for real devotees, some of the scenes will have you guffawing into your popcorn lite.
But the biggest joke, which gets Carrie out of a depression caused by wedding blues, is the fact one of her friends soils herself while on holiday in Mexico. Hilarious.
This is ultimate chick-lit writ large – it is as shallow as a dried-up puddle.
I’m also afraid to say that the apparently pos­itive concept of a film with four women as the leads is undone by rampant materialism.
It makes women appear only happy if they have nice dresses and a scallywag of a boyfriend to moan about.
Yet the film works, because it does exactly what it says on the tin. If you’ve watched one episode, you’ve already seen this film. Why change a winning formula? Despite my misgivings (and let’s face it, this film wasn’t aimed at me) there’s enough schmaltz to keep you occupied.
It is glamorous – a crucial factor – but New York glamour for me is signified by Breakfast At Tiffanys. It’s a shame Audrey Hepburn’s flame has been passed on to this bunch of misery guts who have never had it so good without realising it.
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