As we all know by now (thanks to the plethora of reviews, I won’t go there), it is four years later and the “girls” have matured into their 40s. The problems are new, but the relationships, despite some bumps in the road, have survived. The movie received good crowd reaction, and I suddenly realized why I no longer appreciate the in-the-theater experience. There were certain parts of the movie I totally missed because of the outbursts of nearby movie-goers.
I wish I could say I loved the movie, but I can’t. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good movie, but not a great one. The plot was believable and the acting was good. Sex and the City: The Movie was plenty serious enough. It was also shallow enough, chock full of beautiful couture, fabulous locations, and Manolo Blahniks, but something was missing. On the way home, I was trying to put my finger on why it didn’t strike a chord with me.
Perhaps it was too serious. The original series moved at a lively and playful pace, and the writing was smart and witty. Because it was episodic TV, there was always a story promised just around the bend. Not so with the movie, where only a couple of themes can be explored in the time constraints of two hours of film.
Perhaps my unease was the result of the current physical condition of the Fabulous Four. True, they are all gorgeous women, but they are now aging, concerned about the intricacies of long-term relationships and (for some of them) children, and more closely resemble ME than the infamous Fab Four. I suppose I would be just as uncomfortable if Friends decided to make a movie debut. That prospect is so scary, I can't even imagine it.
For now, the SATC conundrum that is left is eclipsed by the fact that I experienced the movie with my daughter. That part of my night alone was worth the price of admission.
I might have to Netflix this one later to see if I feel the same way six months from now.