{Scott}I had an eye-opening moment when Nicky and I saw Sex and the City on Friday. It came about three-quarters of the way through the film when the perpetually sex-crazed Samantha (Kim Cattrall) stumbled upon her equally sex-crazed neighbor taking an outdoor shower. The moment lasts a good thirty seconds, alternating between a rich, slightly slow motion shot of a naked man showering and Samantha's befuddled response. And it hit me: this is what it must be like for a woman to watch 90% of mainstream Hollywood movies. There wasn't anything wrong with the sequence, either technically or dramatically, and it slid very appropriately into the story, but my gut response, before I had a chance to stop and think, was, "I have no interest in seeing this; get on with the story". I'm reminded of (among thousands of others) last summer's Transformers, particularly the shot of miniskirted & bare midriffed Megan Fox looking under Bumblebee's hood; the camera luxuriates over her. I've always had a pretty big-tent approach to movies not associated with the Golden Demographic; I voluntarily saw and enjoyed Priscilla, Queen of the Desert in high school, and I rabidly defended Brokeback Mountain. I'm not afraid of chick flicks, but I, by definition, watch them as a man. Reversing the psychology, even for a moment, was fascinating.
Synopsis for those who are going to see it, and probably watched at least part of the show: Carrie and Big are buying a penthouse, and she thinks they should get married so if they break up, she won't get screwed. Samantha feels like her life is disappearing into Smith Jerrod's success, but flies back and forth between LA and New York as often as she can to keep things normal. Miranda has way too much on her plate, and her sex life is cool (cool like cold, not cool like good). Charlotte's life is perfect, of course, so she's waiting for the other shoe to drop. (No, there are no links here. If you're in this club, you probably don't need them.)
Synopsis for those who may or may not see it, and probably didn't watch the show: Sex and the City is the big-screen foray of the HBO series of the same name. Four New York women, best friends, socialites and fashonistas (never thought I'd use that word): dreamer and writer Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), working mom and cynic Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), romantic and less working mom Charlotte (Kristin Davis), and the aforementioned sex-crazed Samantha, work through trials in love and life, with the foursome as their strongest relationship. The film picks up four years after the series ended. As Carrie, recently turned 40, considers a penthouse purchase with her longtime boyfriend and gajillionaire Mr. Big (Chris Noth), an ill-timed tale of a jilted, unmarried woman left with nothing convinces her that marriage can protect her from the same fate without compromising her relationship with him. As the wedding preparations grow from modest to outlandish, Big, twice wed, grows uncomfortable with the pagentry, gets some bad advice, and makes a devastating decision. In parallel, the overworked, overtired Miranda deals with her husband's infidelity and her own betrayal of a friend, Samantha agonizes over what she really wants out of life, and Charlotte...well, she has less to do, dramatically speaking. She does get pregnant (highlight for spoilers), though, and shits herself (highlight for more spoilers).
The good stuff:
- By and large, the entire ensemble was strong. This is a cast that spent six years in these characters' skins, and it comes through in nearly every performance. Sarah Jessica Parker is given the bulk of the dramatic heavy lifting, and turns in a performance that effectively covers all parts of Carrie's emotional journey. Jennifer Hudson, the only substantial new addition to the cast as Carrie's personal assistant, is also enjoyable to watch, combining Charlotte's sentimentality with Miranda's toughness. I'm glad, and my in-house Sex and the City expert agrees, that the filmmakers didn't try to shoehorn her into the foursome. I don't think there's room. A particular standout moment occurs 45 minutes or so in as Carrie and the women are leaving the church. Charlotte, shielding Carrie from Big's presence, explodes at him, for just an instant. For a character who spends 90% of the film with an innocent-looking smile, her rage is palpable.
- The recap. Alot happens in this film. Alot. Most of the storylines are continuations, to some degree, of plots started on the show, and as far as I can tell, only one character of note appears in the film who wasn't in the show. So, short of a six-season DVD marathon, some sort of recap was required to bring those of us not on the inside up to speed, and Sex and the City handled this awkward chore well. The film's kickoff recap is quick and effective, lasting about 90 seconds. It introduces the core four, briefly synopsizes their stories and touches on the major relationships in their lives.
- Inspired visual moments. A few instances of strong cinematography stand out. In the scene above, as the girls leave the church, the color palette is limited to bleached blues and greys, matching the moment without coming across as too on-the-nose. Later, in Mexico, each of the women comes to visit Carrie in bed; the visits begins in darkness, with the light appearing and opening the moment. Each action taken is intrinsic to the woman's character, then returns to darkness. Finally, a scene on the Brooklyn Bridge near the end of the movies uses a sweeping sun-drenched panorama of the New York waterfront, as well as a throng of activity on the bridge, to great effect.
- The audience reaction. I know this isn't really part of the movie, but it is part of the moviegoing experience, and Sex and the City is a type of film of which there are few others: a big-budget, broadly advertised summer blockbuster made for women. It had the benefit as well of having a built-in, ravenous audience. I thought this was true, but it wasn't really apparent until about six or seven minutes in...the devotees didn't really tune in until after the recap. Carrie and Big are touring the penthouse, deciding whether to buy, and they come to a door. Behind it was a closet, and the instant the door opened, the audience had one of the largest visceral responses I've experienced in a theater. Ever. Me: "a closet". Them: A communal inrush of breath, 'oh no girl's popping up here and there, suggestions that they not only knew Carrie's entire wardrobe (and shoe...drobe), but they knew how much space it would take up and the sheer inadequacy of the space. Later in the film, when Big's expanded the closet into a cavernous, brightly lit...room, because it's as big as one, the reaction was equally strong.
The not as good stuff:
- With the exception of the few moments above, the look of the film was fairly television-ish. Portions of the film felt flat and uninspired visually. It can be argued, though, and was, Friday night at Silver Diner, that the look of the film is intentional. I'll use Star Trek to illustrate both sides. Don't worry, I'll be brief, and not dorky. When the classic series made the jump to film in 1979, a decade had passed since the TV show ended and the budget was enormous compared to the series. Most importantly, the scale had shifted: the characters were older and facing larger stories, justifying a shift in look and feel. By contrast, when the Next Generation crew appeared on the big screen in 1994, the show had been off the air for just six months, and the scale of Star Trek Generations is on par with a two-parter of the series. The shift in the of the look of the film is, in places, quite jarring, and took me out of the moment. "Wow! I didn't realize that the lighting on the bridge was that moody!" Anyway, I think that Sex and the City was more suited for a classic-Star-Trek-style transition to the big screen. The story does feel consistent with a really big three- or four-parter of the series (what I know of it, anyway), but the palette that is New York deserves a richer eye. Last year's Enchanted opened up New York and gave us a deeper background for the story to play out.
- A few moments of ill-timed visual humor. At the end of two particularly hard-hitting emotional moments, as characters storm off in anger, small beats of humor appear. A flippy dress flips a little too much. Carrie, tangled in a sargasso sea of balloon strings. These moments are the kind that need to just sit there and burn. I know that Sex and the City is ostensibly a comedy, but there were several well-drawn dramatic moments, and as each one faded, I was bothered that the audience was laughing. Apparently not all audiences laughed, but I can't believe that my audience was the only one, test audiences included. There are a few alternate explanations, one suggested by Nicky. Moments of drama, when trying to make a point, are often undermined by some seemingly insignificant thing getting in your way. It's possible that was the intention, but if it wasn't, I would have preferred the burn.
And to clarify, the possibly unintended humor, though it's been a oft-discussed issue, isn't a deal breaker. I really had to look hard to find specific things that I didn't like about the film.
Sex and the City presented a unique moviegoing experience. A summer blockbuster, made for women, with dozens of in-jokes that I wasn't in on, it was nonetheless a not-at-all-unpleasant viewing. It lacked visual flair, but there were several moments of genuine emotion, driven no doubt by the comfort of the cast in their roles and the relationships forged between them. Sure, it wasn't made for me, but it made Nicky very happy, and that's worth the cost of admission. I imagine that watching her watching this was like her watching me watching Indiana Jones.
In post-script, I have a confession to make and an apology. I was that guy on Friday night. In order to keep notes, since I was sure there were things I would forget, I turned on my Palm in the theater while the movie was playing. That thing is bright, way brighter than I expected. I have seen the error of my ways, and promise never to do that again. To all those sitting behind me, and my wife beside me, I am sorry.
