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Friday, May 30, 2008

Please...don't go. Don't even think about it!!

Sex and the City: the Movie is opening today and predictably the Hollywood hype machine has been in overdrive for some time now. I've purposefully avoided looking at any reviews so that I make a pristine prediction; it will suck!! The film will however garner a few good comments where apologetic critics will say things like "If you were a big fan of the TV series you'll love it", "I was surprisingly moved by the honesty", "The non-stop parade of fashion was a feast for the eyes" etc.

Logic dictates that the show was terrible and the movie will follow suit. The show was inane, poorly written, and horribly acted but it did allow regular women to fantasize that when they gossiped with their girlfriends at some dime-a-dozen coffee shop, they were as coolly pathetic as the female fab four. It also lowered the bar on discourse and allowed womanly raunch talk to be acceptable in public; the lusty Samantha could talk openly about swallowing sperm or something and the demure Charlotte would cringe and change the subject to provide the proper balance. Some guys even enjoyed eavesdropping on good looking babes talking dirty like I do when I'm alone at Second Cup pretending to read the paper.

Where two women sharing their feelings and discussing sex over a cocktail, dressed to the nines at a chic watering hole, is fun, four of them is a veritable gang bang!!

If I knew more about pornography, (which I don't) I'd go on to give any number of parallels between this show and more X-rated fare but since most of The Blob readership are connoisseurs of the genre they can adeptly fill in the blanks themselves.

This show and now the movie, like steamy romance novels or soap operas, is little more than porn for women and that's OK. Most guys however don't get too turned on by haute couture (unless it's "Fashion File" or "Nipples on Parade" as I like to call it) and appreciate talk as long as it's followed by action. e.g.
  • "Miss Jorgensen your tax return is done."
  • "But I forgot my wallet Mr. Harden, can I pay you some other way??"
  • (cue rhythm guitar) "I'm sure we can work something out."

I just hope you ladies who insist on going, allow your man (if you have one) to stay home and that you let him rent whatever he wants, Anal Accountant vol.17 comes highly recommended. Excellent dialogue, fabulous locations, and the pants, shoes, and neckties are to die for!!


slapper58 said...

Reprinted excerpt from a review in The Globe and Mail:

After all, bad summer films, full of furious hype and signifying nothing, are hardly exceptional these days, nor is the sound they typically make: the dull scrape of a culture hitting rock bottom. Yet this one seems uniquely bad; this one is a threshold-breaker with a different sound, the crack of rock-bottom giving way to a whole deeper layer of magma.

SEE!!??? (sure there are some good reviews but still....SEE!!???)

slapper58 said...


I also hear that the lovely Kristin Davis (Charlotte) has a bit of a mishap when the girls vacation down Mexico way and she shits her pants. Geez, talk about a tired plot device (see: "Murder She Wrote" season 2, episode#37, Dinner at the Mendoza's)
I can still see the look of shame and horror on Angela Lansbury's face.
Nor can I ever forget Jim Backus' star turn after Gilligan served up some tainted coconut and his character, Thurston Howell the third had to resort to a typical island cover-up: "Lovey, would you be so kind as to fetch me a grass skirt, I do believe I've soiled my trousers. (riotous laughter, applause)"
Who doesn't love TV??