I just read Kyle Smith's review of "Sex and the City 2" in the New York Post. an excerpt:
The girls aren’t interested in anything except shopping, drinking and strutting through the desert in slo-mo, but what’s most appalling is that they vamp to “I Am Woman” in this land of sand Nazis. A veil “cuts back on the Botox bill!” chirps Samantha. Har. In Abu Dhabi husbands can legally beat their wives — and Carrie thinks this place is Oz, a cure for her boredom with a zillionaire husband who, she complains, eats too much takeout. (She won’t cook because she’s more “Coco Chanel than Coq au vin.” Waiter: one divorce, please).
Kyle, you are too kind. I saw this movie last night on a free pre-screening pass and at one point I actually exclaimed, "OH GOD" in disgust. This instinctive reaction to one of the lamest parts of the movie -- and there are so many; roughly 3 hours' worth -- was bookended by several uncontrollable, irritated sighs.
Some other observations from the worst movie I've seen in years:
There is no conflict. Whatsoever. Various irritations (Carrie forgets where she left her passport, Carrie accidentally kisses Aidan, Charlotte has a concern about her nanny, Miranda hates her job, Samantha's menopause hormones get confiscated at the airport and she loses her libido) are no big deal and get neatly tied up in the last 20 minutes of the movie.
The dialogue is atrocious. How man times, over how many years, can the same four women have the same conversations? I've seen the entire TV series. I even halfway enjoyed the first movie. But not even the phrase "beating a dead horse" accurately describes the verbal vomit that is this movie. Erik and I likened it to a Disney film sans animation. It's a grownup movie written for children. It's worse than "The Phantom Menace."
Speaking of children's movies, the sound effects just plain pissed me off. You know that chimes sound in cartoons when someone has a brilliant idea? It occurs more than once in this movie. The first time I thought maybe the heat got to me and I was hearing things. No such luck.
This movie could be borderline offensive to Muslims. The jokes aren't funny at all. An entire five minutes is devoted to Carrie staring at two women at a cafe wearing veils. She quips about one woman's devotion to her religion, since she eats french fries one at a time, lifting the veil for each fry. My friends and I wondered if, at the end of the movie, we were supposed to embrace or fear the people of the Middle East and their culture.
The movie focuses around looks, and that's it. Shiny, beautiful, silken outfits that none of the rest of us could ever dream of affording. A beyond opulent Abu Dhabi hotel where the girls just happen to land a free vacation. A few camels. An awful camel toe joke.
"Sex and the City 2" is void of emotion. At least the first one made most of us tear up when Big flakes out on the wedding. The sequel is pure fluff, and might as well not even have dialogue. The only scene I enjoyed in the movie was the only realistic one: Charlotte and Miranda (incidentally, my two favorite SATC characters) sharing the struggles of motherhood, and the guilt from wanting to get away from their kids once in a while.
We agreed that the moral of the story, if there was a moral or even a story in "Sex and the City 2," is that having sh*tloads of money makes life a billion times more fun because your biggest problem becomes what to wear to dinner tonight.