Sex and the City - the review, the clothes, the bunions.

Hello blogosphere,

Well, I'm back home from the Odeon, still bedecked in my sequinned finery and sipping daintily on a G&T. Friends, I'm here to tell you that where liquor is concerned, never stray from the classics. I say this as a woman who drank her very first Cosmopolitan this evening. Why would you ruin gin by dumping a fruit cocktail in there?

Check it: me and beloved co-blogger Tor, drinking our fancy £3.90 cocktails. The cinema bar lady took a looooong time to stick the little straws to the side of the glass. I am given to understand that this kind of gesture denotes a joint that is well classy. Still, all her effort was for naught as we were running late and had to quaff our pink ladydrinks like sailors. You see Tor in her tough leaher jacket and Carrie Bradshaw tribute corsage. Underneath was a very fetching green plaid prom dress from Primark. The concept was "Carrie Bradshaw if she was English and all rock-slash-emo." I decided to honour the Pat Field look with a waist belt and the artful juxtaposition of charity shop daisies and gold chains with 1920s-style chiffon miniskirts.

Ah, it wasn't styled with the artfulness of the show or indeed with the elan that other bloggers display, but hey...I felt thin, I felt sexy and if I bent over the world was my gynecologist. Thematic, right? What's not to love?

Now, the film itself.... I don't want to spoil it for anyone who's still looking for the time to go. Instead I shall present you with ten abstract promises of what awaits you:

1) A young Judy Garland
2) Nipple count of 3 vs. Penile Count of 1
3) A gypsy curse
4) Head bird
5) 2.5 seconds of glorious Andre Leon Talley offset by an awful 1.25 of Plum Sykes's SMUG FACE.
6) Poopie pants
7) Glorious alien-queen 1980s dress montage

You won't see this. This scene was not in the movie. Please do not anticipate this scene.
If you expect this scene you will be disappointed. Thank you for discounting this scene.

8)David Eigenberg in multicoloured plaid.
9) Hilarious product placement for Pret a Manger of all bloody things.
10) Two words: Bear attack.

I enjoyed the movie. I thought that the finest moments were in the first 2/3rds of the plot and that there is a noticeable drop in momentum in the third act. People have said that it's just 3 episodes strung together but honestly the structure on the TV eps is waaay tighter. The year timespan felt like a imposed structure on which to hang plot. This is a story, baggier than Samantha's cooch with little set pieces for all the women (Kristin Davis = angry hobbling comic genius) but with the men (with the exception of David Eigenberg as Steve) totally sidelined and wasted. Don't tease a half drunk Becky with one fricking scene with Evan Handler. Dude's a bald Jew king with a New York stage career and charisma up the yin-yang and the movie gives him nothing but a neutered teddy-bear bit? That's some class A b.s. in my book. Also? Smith got old. Again, the narrative gives him nothing and reduces his character to insubstantial prettyboy. But onscreen and blown-up twenty feet, his skin.... oy. Ever slung a leather handbag in the washing machine? All I'm saying.

There are some ace moments and some great dialogue (what other summer movie is going to reference Diane Arbus in a throwaway line?) and yes, it is genuinely moving. I also have an enormous amount of respect for Sarah Jessica Parker's willingness to look like genuine, absolute shit: no make-up, middle aged skin, puffy bags and bad hair. When you've seen as many shitty rom-coms as I have where the heroine's little upset is signified by two mascara streaks and a cute pyjama'd bum, you appreciate an actor taking a risk, putting aside vanity and making an emotional moment real. SaTC is a total fantasy, no question, but it's always put a premium on theatre-trained New York actors and in amongst all the puns and outfits and associated whatnots, there's a commitment to genuine emotion. Jennifer Hudson is wonderful an instinctual actress rather than a NY trained true blue but, much to my dismay, her character was wasted - a plot point with staggering cleavage. She does what she can and looks luscious but she's written off as arbitrarily as she arrives.

Look at her - how was she not in every scene?

Ah, but it's okay. Tor will rip me a new one for being too critical. Some things are sacred and god knows the viewing experience in the cinema was like a big boozy slumberparty with 100 strangers. That's what the shared experience and character investment of 6 years of loyal viewership will give you. It was a feeling unlike any other experience I've ever had at the cinema. I didn't even go ballistic at the girls in the front row texting during the movie or at the pockets of chatter all throughout the screening room (believe me -- usually I'm a Nazi). I was serene - we were all there for the shoes.

Love,
Becky.

PS - Inquiring minds wanna know. Favourite outfit? This one. Gotta love bling and a trailing sleeve. Thanks for asking.