Bringing
sexy back
The
history of cinema is littered with bad movies based on good TV
shows. That's not to say that Sex and the City is a woefully
bad movie – it's certainly not in the league of say Mod
Squad – but it serves to illustrate the enormous difficulties
facing filmmakers who try to make the leap from the small screen
to the big (no pun intended).
Many of those past failures have come about because
the filmmakers tried to mimic the TV show directly. Wisely, writer-director
Michael Patrick King, who was a key player in the successful TV
series, doesn't make that mistake here. Instead of trying to simply
adapt the show, he takes this movie beyond where the show ended
(something made quite clear in the first few minutes).
King however falters as he fails to recapture what
made the TV series great in the first place. The series relied
on a heady mix of wit, quirkiness and emotion. In this film, the
first two are sorely lacking. Sure, there's plenty of emotion
here; but with little to balance it out, the film veers dangerously
close to out-and-out soap at times.
The film is set four years after the TV series ended.
Charlotte Yorke (Kristin Davis) is still married to Harry (Evan
Handler) and they've adopted a daughter. Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall)
has moved to Los Angeles to manage the career of boyfriend Smith
Jerrod (Jason Lewis). Miranda Hobbs (Cynthia Nixon) has moved
to Brooklyn with husband Steve (David Eigenberg) and their son,
but cracks are appearing in their relationship. And Carrie Bradshaw
(Sarah Jessica Parker) is buying an apartment with Mr Big a.k.a.
John James Preston (Chris Noth). But she's throw for a tailspin
when Big proposes something more permanent; yes, the big “M”
- marriage!
I guess it's already been given away by dozens of
gossip mags that the wedding doesn't go quite to plan, leaving
Carrie and her gal pals to pick up some pieces, holiday in Mexico
and generally get all philosophical.
On reflection, I could forgive King for stripping
out the quirk and the humour from this film if he'd just made
the script stronger. As an example, a major plot development occurs
in the early part of the film. This development however is such
a bolt from the blue, that I for one was left scratching my head.
The only lead-in to this incident is a rather oblique scene a
little earlier. Similarly, Samantha's confrontation with Smith
feels completely forced and unrealistic.
The other main script failing here is that King
assumes that all the goodwill generated by the TV series will
simply flow through to the film. As a result, he spends precious
little time establishing or developing any of the characters.
I suppose this is fine to a degree, but as a stand-alone film
experience, it's rather lacking. 
I
mean, if you weren't familiar with the characters from television,
I suspect you'd be wondering why you'd care about these four women
who, based solely on the film script, could come across as wholly
superficial. The fact that the film spends so much time justifying
its own materialistic instincts doesn't help.
There's also a bit of a “Lord of the Rings”
element to the film. Just when you think it's finished, it starts
up again – and again. I appreciate that King had to wrap
up all the intertwined stories; but the time he takes in doing
it (the film runs for 2 and a half hours – 5 times longer
than an episode of the TV show) is painfully frustrating.
On the plus side, there are moments of genuine empathy
here (the way the Mexican sojourn begins for Carrie, as an example);
and despite coming far slower and less frequently than many would
have liked, some quite funny jokes. For those interested in such
things, there are also plenty of designer garments on show, including
a parade of wedding gowns from big-name fashion houses that had
the preview audience in raptures.
The four main actors – Sarah Jessica Parker,
Kim Cattrall, Cynthia Nixon and Kristin Davis – slip back
into their respective characters with an ease bred of familiarity.
Although you could argue that none are particularly well-served
by the script (Nixon is notably hard done by), the individual
performances are difficult to fault. Jennifer Hudson, who appears
as Carrie's secretary, however is another story. I'm increasingly
convinced her Oscar was an abberation, as her wooden and passionless
performance here was just painful to watch. The male actors, who
understandably get far less screen time, are also generally good,
with Chris Noth (another whose character doesn't fare well in
the screenplay), Evan Handler and David Eigenberg all making impressions.
As someone who was a fan of the TV series, I found
Sex and the City the movie a big disappointment. Perhaps
it was the relentless hype that's been surrounding the film for
what seems like months now, but King and his team didn't deliver
on the protential of the franchise in this big-screen outing.
Just about everything about the film feels forced, in contrast
to its progenitor which made its easy grace a hallmark. I doubt
any of that will make a difference to the legion of fans who'll
dutifully trek to the nearest multiplex to reunite with Carrie
and co; but I somehow doubt that these will be the same friends
they said goodbye to five years ago.
David Edwards
