Fuck me, this film seems to go on forever. Wouldn't they have been better just making a 2 part mini-series? Oh no, of course that wouldn't have made as much money. Silly me.
One good thing's come out though; I've now taken to flying to New York to hire a fabulously gauche new hand-bag every week rather than having to constantly buy them to keep up with the latest fad.
We went on a Thursday night, and I honestly can't remember the last time I saw our local cinema completely packed out mid-week. The only problem was that in an audience of a fair few hundred only 4 of us were men. The place resembled a massive hen-night. A cheap hen-night at that. You know, the sort of hen-night that attracts that type of girl you often see hanging out of a limo' sunroof near Piccadilly Circus - invariably wearing bunny-rabbit ears and/or angel-wings - screaming obscenities at unsuspecting men on the pavement, with the sound of 10 drunk girls within wailing along to "I've Had The Time Of My Life" from Dirty Dancing only barely muffled by the thankfully blacked-out windows.
In short, it was the type of hyped-up crowd which I imagine you get just before the Chippendales come on stage. You could quite literally smell the oestrogen in the air. A hush descended over the crowd as all heads swung round in our direction. I'd read about this with sharks; they could smell blood for miles and would come to investigate, circling the prey. As soon as one finally went for the kill a huge feeding frenzy would begin, with anything in the vicinity likely to be eaten. The Boyf and I eyed each other nervously. "Act camp", I whispered, "it's the only way we'll get out of here alive".
The Drag Queen - who we'd taken along as cover and body-guard - pushed us up the aisle and into some seats, where we had to scramble over discarded accessories. I don't think I've ever seen so many bags and coats and jumpers in my life before. What is it with women and having to have everything with them all the time? And shoes! Why had they all taken their shoes off?
The women talked all of the way through the trailers, so much so that I couldn't hear the trailer for The Dark Knight, which I'd been looking forward to. The Drag Queen also chatted throughout - to us and any girl in the vicinity, as girls have want to do. Apparently trailers are a boy thing.
Then the film started, which I thought would be a mercy until I began to realise how long it was going to be, and that the audience were going to cheer/sob/laugh/applaud etc at every unfolding event. I say "unfolding event" like it had a plot. Basically it's this (here come the spoilers); Carrie and Big are getting married, Steve cheats on Miranda and they split up, Big jilts Carrie at the altar, Carrie implores Miranda to learn the meaning of forgiveness thereby learning it herself and forgiving Big, Big and Carrie get married. Between these major events are Samantha's reluctance to get old (still), and Charlotte being pregnant, which apparently has had the same effect on her as a frontal lobotomy. The whole forgiveness thing is given a further push by Jennifer Hudson's character, which is shoe-horned into the proceedings with little to do other than labour the point, just in case the Miranda/Steve situation wasn't already obvious enough.
Interspersing the whole thing is a veritable cornucopia of hideous frocks, bags and shoes.
And was it even filmed in New York? We get to see precious little of the city they so love (apart from the steps up to Carrie's apartment). I guess the title doesn't actually state which city, so perhaps they thought they'd film any outdoor scene which didn't involve Central Park in Vancouver.
So, my conclusion? Yes, amazingly I did actually enjoy it, but only because I liked the series in the first place. Ok, Sex And The City never set the world alight, but it was always an easy watch, and the film's exactly the same. It's the movie equivalent of Heat magazine. No reason to catch it on the big screen, but if you are a fan then no doubt you'll want to see it at some point.