While okmagazine.com’s PhilmGuy has voiced his opinion of Sex and the City 2, many commenters have noted that a female viewpoint is needed, too. Here, OK!’s movies & TV guru Ashley Muldoon takes a crack at the much-awaited chick flick.
This over-long sequel begins with a cliché-ridden gay wedding (officiated by Liza Minelli, natch) and ends with a funeral — my imaginary one, because death at that point seemed a welcome relief to the two hour and 23 minute crapfest I had just endured.
To categorize Sex and the City 2 as a bad movie would be an insult to Gigli. SATC 2 is so terrible — and, ultimately, so offensive — that I seriously would have to restrain myself from smacking series creator Michael Patrick King in the face should I ever meet him.
Because that’s what he and his writers have effectively done to our once-treasured SATC icons.
It is beyond my comprehension why the writers of this film would take the deeply flawed and complex — but ultimately loveable — women they’d created and boil them down to their basest, most unattractive characteristics. I spent — and it bears mentioning again — TWO HOURS AND 23 MINUTES waiting for Carrie or Samantha or Miranda or Charlotte to do something, ANYTHING, redemptive. But no: Carrie is just plain self-centered (for TWO HOURS AND 23 MINUTES!); Samantha is vulgar; Miranda’s a bore and Charlotte’s such an idiot that I had to stop myself from standing up and chucking my shoe at her visage on the screen.
But ruining everyone’s favorite gals is only a minor insult when compared to King and company’s horrendous take on the Middle East. The film’s concept — the girls head to Abu Dhabi (in reality, Morocco) to ride couture atop camels and score shoes at the souk — seemed innocuous enough. But for whatever reason the movie decides to tackle Muslim sexual mores and, in so doing, paints a picture of western female liberation so grotesque that you might find yourself wondering if the Taliban itself had backed the film.
Because, I’m sorry: if sexual empowerment looks anything like a sweaty Samantha clutching condoms to her breast and screaming “I have sex!” while horrified Muslim men — who just seconds before had been called TO PRAYER — look on, then put me in a burka.
I believe in sexual freedom, but I also believe there’s nothing “fabulous” about being anti-Muslim. And that’s the real tragedy here: King seems to be celebrating the intolerance of these ugly Americans with the same fervor he had previously reserved for their Manolos.
How very glamorous.