Sex and the suburbs
**SPOILER ALERT – Though, honestly, I recommend you just skip the movie altogether, it was that bad, and just read my post instead.
My weekend away was a dream. I stayed out late, slept in, and ran around my old stomping grounds like I was 23 again (including shopping by day, though with a higher credit limit, and late-night trips to DQ). Even managed to squeeze in a movie, because we all know how rare that becomes once the parenthood credits start to roll.
So I wedged in between my sister and one of my besties to see the ultimate chick flick, “Sex and the City 2”. Disclaimer: I am a huge SATC fan. Have seen and own every season and the first movie. Want to be a writer in a walk-up like Carrie. Big fan of Big. Etc. But it still didn’t help. It was that bad.
Surprisingly, Charlotte, who is the one character I could never relate to – have never converted to Judaism, don’t live on Park Ave., the only thing we had in common was being blessed with big hips – was, in my humble opinion, the best part of the movie.
Charlotte, who dreamed of having children forever, is now blessed with two – and slowly going crazy. The hot nanny storyline got a little old, but I related to every moment of the mama meltdowns she had: crying in the closet while her little one is wailing away in her high chair. Loving her little ones, but admitting they are driving her nuts. Dying to get away with the girls (the bigger ones), and drink herself back into singlehood, if even just for one weekend. And then, of course, falling madly, deeply back in love with her family before the house lights came back up.
She nailed every moment of frustration, fear and ultimately, joy, perfectly, and frankly, made the City-style antics of Samantha seem overdone and tired.
Note to SJP et al.: perhaps the three-quel needs a new backdrop — the playground.