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Friday 9 January 2009

Perfect package

Sex and the City
15, Nationwide 

The film opens, as those that get it would absolutely expect it to, with a voiceover from Carrie. It goes: ‘Year after year, twenty-something women come to New York City in search of the two “Ls”: labels and love. Twenty years ago, I was one of them, having gotten the knack for labels early...I concentrated on love.’ The quartet have matured. Carrie no longer types in her underwear and has suggested to Mr Big that they tie the knot. Miranda lives in Brooklyn with Steve and their son, Brady, who has the colouring of an orang-utan, which has to be a worry. (‘Even I’m worried,’ says Bubbles.) Samantha, who once made my heart sing by shouting ‘I’m fortyf******five and proud of it!’, is living in California with Smith and wilting with the dreary monogamy of it all. Charlotte and Harry have a little Chinese daughter who also has great hair, although this may not have been the main reason behind her adoption. The premise is: now they’ve all found love, and are no longer searching, what happens next?

OK, last week I said that Indiana Jones did what it said on the reel can and, to a certain extent, so does this. There are the shoes and the frocks and a multitude of those ‘what is she wearing?’ moments and for one brief yet sublime moment even a revival of the tutu that Carrie wore in the opening credits of the TV show. But, along with the laugh-out-loud moments — Samantha and the sushi; prissy Charlotte pooping her pants — there are also moments of real and involving heft, including a wedding sequence that is a full-blooded heart stopper. (Parker, by the way, is terrifically good; amazing.) This is the other beauty of Sex and the City: just as you’re beginning to think enough of this cliché-riddled rubbish already, it’ll do something to grab you by the throat and thrash you about a bit. There is a reunion scene on Brooklyn Bridge that had me blubbing like the lachrymose old fool that I am.

Actually, the Sex and the City movie may even be more than the sum of the TV episodes which, in turn, might be quite something. No, it doesn’t break new ground, but it does know its own ground perfectly. Not that Bubbles will have any of it. ‘If you don’t mind, I’m off to read my Top Gear magazine. I’m an issue behind as it is.’

More articles from: Deborah Ross | this section

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