Summer Movie Suicide Mission No. 7: Sex and the City

In which one man attempts to view every summer blockbuster for the entire season, regardless of taste, genre, or estrogen osmosis.

I could be exposing a personal bias here, but it has always seemed to me that cult media phenomena present an overwhelmingly gendered terrain. That is to say that individuals who tend to throw all of their passion into one particular media artifact are typically male. This perception could be part of an overall media representation of fandom as the realm of socially maladjusted young men, as in Trekkies and countless other films and television shows about nerdy individuals and their curiosities. From my perspective, the cult around Sex and the City is unexpected and exceptional for that reason alone.

I thought about this as I sat in a huge auditorium awaiting a showing of the film version of Sex and the City, where an informal tally revealed that male moviegoers represented a scant 5-10% of the near-sellout audience.

Sex and the City, the television show, is one that I’ve always enjoyed, though with certain reservations. I never had a problem with the unrealistic or mindlessly aspirational elements of the show, since entertainment is meant to be escapist and I won’t make judgments on a program for that rationale alone. The problem for me has always been that, while a great deal of the comedy is sharp, clever, and pretty risky even for pay television, the storylines always seemed pandering and mildly anti-feminist. At first glance, the four main characters are strong and remarkable women unafraid to break any expectations about what women should be, what they should discuss, and what they should do with their lives, both in their careers and in love. But if you watch long enough, the stories fall into the rom-com trap. It’s exemplified more in Sarah Jessica Parker’s narration than anywhere else, but the themes of the show tend to be simplistically and reductively romantic. With the exception of the Samantha character, whose selfishness and promiscuity are a vault of comedy, the women of Sex and the City codify their happiness based on two things: their friendship with each other (which I certainly have no beef with), and ultimately, their need to find the right man to fall in love with. In this sense, I have the same problem with Sex and the City as I had with Made of Honor and many other romantic comedies. There is only one real goal, without which a woman can never be happy.

The thing that separates Sex and the City from other rom-coms, though, is that it’s actually comedic. And the movie was no exception. The story plays like a mini-marathon of TV episodes, and it is shot as such. Nothing too special here except for the giant screen. The filmmakers did have to resolve the fact that the series had wrapped up all the loose ends, but those loose ends came untied again early in the film. Two and a half hours later, everything was fixed again, after some good laughs, some silly though exorbitantly expensive outfits, some groan-inducing narration, and a totally misplaced Jennifer Hudson supporting role. (Side note: Jennifer Hudson — worst Academy Award winner ever? Discuss.)

To me, the film itself was inconsequential when compared to the atmosphere in which I saw it. I overheard myriad comments about designer shoes; I saw young women in “I’m with Mr. Big” t-shirts; I heard women heckle Carrie’s wedding dress; I heard resounding applause before the credits rolled. As an interactive experience, this was kind of like seeing Star Wars on opening night. On estrogen. 

To the cult, my criticism is meaningless. I’m a guy anyway, so what do I know? When it comes down to it, this cult is obsessed with a story about hanging out with your friends and falling in love. It’s kind of sweet. No matter what my reservations, I can’t really argue with that.

Film: Sex and the City
Director: Michael Patrick King
Stars: Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristin Davis, Cynthia Nixon, Chris Noth, Jennifer Hudson

Viewing Atmosphere: Weekend evening, crowd full o’ ladies; standard projection
Rotten Tomatoes Average: 54%
My Grade (Out of 10): 6

Next Up: The Strangers