What a show -- the late-night, syndicated re-broadcasts of the original HBO show were fun -- fascinating, riveting -- I needed my sleep but I stayed awake watching them ...
There was dramatic impact, and many memorable scenes -- sex scenes, fabulous outfits, unsolvable problems -- career conflicts, wrong guys, orgasms -- having them, and not having them --
The episodes were chock full of typical female woes and insights. Personal stuff that women experience but rarely share with other women WERE SHARED each night. And it was interesting, even to a male audience. My husband watched it, instead of reading his book.
And yet, after a while, I became impatient with the girls for their obsessiveness, for weaknesses they seemed incapable of changing. Yeah? Well, I kept watching because I was hooked.
And Sarah Jessica Parker, was ... well, I'd seen her, noted her, was vaguely jealous of her ever since I'd seen her in Steve Martin's movie, "L.A. Story." She played his lover -- a frisky, inventive, dancer creature with whom he had an brief affair. Yes, I was jealous. I knew she was on her way to being what she is now -- special -- a star.
(With the world opening up for her after that movie, SLP didn't have to pry it open with the tools I've had to use to "make it" in my various career modes.)
Though I enjoyed her choices as Carrie in "Sex in the City," and was educated by the plot-shocker events that she and the girls had to do (did deliciously), I got restless and busier with the novel I was revising.
The HBO series ran for 6 years, After about nine months, the segments in the syndicated "Sex and the City" started into repeats. and enough was enough.
So, the movies, "Sex in the City" # 1, and now, #2 that just opened ... mmmmm
I know the characters, I am a woman with an eye on ... oh, so many of our secret thoughts, dreams, and concerns ... I didn't want to see "the girls" age. And I don't want to watch them evolve into quirky, self-centered, older women.
What I've seen of the two movies in reviews, previews, quotes, pictures, publicity, film clips -- please, no more! "Sex in the City's" reign as a must-see film is over.
Maybe it's not for you, but it is for me. Clothes, no matter how outlandish, amazing, unusual gorgeous, no matter how many costumes -- 300, more or less, in a 148 minute movie, is about 2 changes per minute -- that's boring! Reviewers who've counted, report that there were 81 for Carrie, that's 1 change per minute; just for her, merely 200 for the other girls.
I think the movie is sort of a Castor Oil remedy for the younger generation -- take it, have a good dose and be cured, kids. The updated movie story of these four babes, is a training ground, for what not to do, what not to be, when you grow up.