In case you haven’t noticed or heard the feature-length adaption of “Sex And The City” comes out in theaters today and the tone around the film’s release is rather shrill and frankly a little souring. The release of the film is opening up a cultural can of worms for men and women some of whom are using the film as a tirade against women, New Yorkers and seemingly almost everything else at hand.
Jezebels’ Crimes Against Womanity section must be literally ringing off the hook.
We mean, who hasn’t thrown around some playful digs at a movie that isn’t very good (the series was excellent), but some people (and not just blogs), journalists and writers are just taking it way too far and the devolution into straight up misogyny and hateful sexism is a little disconcerting.
MTV’s Kurt Loder does a nice summation of exactly what we’re talking about.
“Media attempts to whip up male hysteria around the release of the “Sex and the City” movie have been thoroughly peculiar. The assumption appears to be that any guy voluntarily going to see this picture — or, more likely, getting shanghaied into seeing it by the “Sex”-addicted woman in his life — would somehow be sullying his heterosexuality, and, who knows, might soon find himself mooning over a pair of $700 Jimmy Choo sandals, or something. In London, where the movie opened on Wednesday, a columnist for the Evening Standard warned, “If there ever was a time for men to avoid the cinema, this weekend is it.” “
The film and everything vile the original HBO might represent (in the minds of some anyhow) – vacuous materialism, insipid accessory consumerism and anything remotely superficial or cosmetic — has become a dumping ground for cliches about the movie and older women in general (not to mention specifically from Americans in the rest of the country who seemingly can’t understand the apparent tawdry “whorehouse” life of New York women. Yes, some women like sex, get over it).
Case in point: Even senior female NYTimes movie critic Manohla Dargis critic falls prey to it in her opening line no less. “A little Botox goes a long way in ‘Sex and the City,’ but a little decent writing would have gone even further,” she wrote in her review.
Jeffrey Wells’ screed was typically over-the-top.
“The film is another Taliban recruitment film — a grotesque and putrid valentine to the insipid ‘me, my lifestyle, my accessories and I’ chick culture of the early 21st Century. Guys everywhere — if you’re in a brand-new relationship, take her to see this thing. If she even half-likes it, dump her and walk away cold. Save yourself!”
Granted, we haven’t seen the film and it could be as wretched and fluff-filled as many are suggesting, but after a certain point the press just gets a little nasty and ugly. Not to be PC about it, but at the very least it’s incredibly fascinating to see the kind of strong reactions the film – and what is perceived to be what the show exemplifies – evokes and what that says about our media culture
Variety suggested that men would rather be shot than see this film which is rather ridiculous. Even David Eigenberg who plays Steve, Miranda’s husband/father of her child refused to watch the show and basically never has. I’ve never watched the television show,” Eigenberg told Intelligencer. “You have to divorce yourself from all this” — he waved his hands around —”I don’t know what all this hoopla is.”
The New Yorker’s Anthony Lane gets in a deep dig within his first paragraph about the secrecy surrounding the film’s plot. “Would one of the main characters die? If so, would she commit suicide by self-pity (a constant threat)?,” he wrote. Get behind your girls, bro.
The always reliable and even-keeled Joshua Rothkop – one of the better movie critics out there – wrote what might have been the best review we’ve seen (or at least the least hateful from a dude).
“We’ll continue to experience befuddlement verging on disgust whenever we’re reminded of Sex and the City (so named, we suppose, because Seriously Rethinking Third-Wave Feminism reads like ass on a poster),” writes a critic from Orlando.
“Flabby, unfocused reunion in which the emotional content is drowned out by the incessant pursuit and plugging of designer shoes, gowns and handbags,” writes the L.A. Daily News.
The consensus however, seems to be if you were a fan of this show, you should be generally pleased with the film. Yeah, cosmo-sippin’ culture and Manolo-adoring frivolousness can be annoying, but being the contrarian reactionists we are we’re going to pay out of our pockets this weekend and go see it [ed. congratulations?]. So there.
Meanwhile, the possibility of a sequel has been hinted at. Johnny, go get your gun.
