Sex and the City
It’s not accurate to characterize “Sex and the City” as an extended episode of the HBO series. With a running time of nearly two-and-a-half hours, it’s more like an entire season – a mediocre one. The show ended – a few years removed from its frothy, raunchy peak – with the heroine and her three sidekicks basking in a contented glow. The movie proposes to find out what happens after the happily-ever-after. For writer-director Michael Patrick King, the answer is more of the same – a lack of emotional fulfillment fueled largely by poor communication between romantic partners. But instead of playing the friction for comedy, King steers it toward maudlin melodrama. He tears everybody down, then builds them back up – tediously. And he sparks the conflict by having his smart, capable characters behave without the self-awareness that ought to accompany their supposed maturity. If you want to see Carrie, Miranda and Samantha act like buffoons, “Sex and the City” is for you. Charlotte, played by Kristin Davis, doesn’t get to do as much – and Davis overcompensates with an acting style better suited for Telemundo. Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall and especially Cynthia Nixon remain skilled performers, capable of sass and vulnerability. But King again does his stars no favors by shooting them as if they’re still on television – with brightly lighted, indifferently framed close-ups. There’s more to movie glamour than draping Parker in garish couture. This “Sex and the City” will work best as the sleepy coda to all-night DVD viewing parties.
LISTEN: Sex and the City