How can there be a Sex and the City movie set in the Middle East?
No, I haven’t seen Sex and the City 2, so perhaps this is all stemming from ignorance. But it doesn’t seem like the most tasteful thing ever to plop Carrie et al down in the middle of glittery Abu Dhabi, a center of Saudi-Amero bling and excess, throwing the ladies on camels as a crass counterpoint to the wars raging in the Middle East and Central Asia right before Memorial Day weekend.
But really it makes perfect sense.
Ella Taylor breaks it down (hilariously) in the Village Voice: this whole thang is old, stale, moldy, musty, no-so-fresh ladies! And a full K-12 education cycle since Season 1 of these high heeled asphalt-clomping ponies, young women clad in cowboy boots and hotpants stumbling down the streets are a teeth-grindingly frequent sight, flung from all parts of the United States onto the chewing-gum speckled streets of NYC by the Nielsen-viewing group-sized handful.
I remember when the antics of Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda were risque, fringe, decidedly for the cable set, what with all the sexing they did in the aforementioned city. Now they’re re-run on TBS with the graphic bits edited out to make room for the Special K with Chocolate commercials, anyway.
Now it’s mainstream embraced, at least not balked at anyway, the flagrant sex talk and upper class relationship problem-having, dress-wearing that costs the same as the per capita income of Haiti…-ness.
Maybe it was the fact that these sexy ladies’ city got vulnerable right before the show’s fourth season, so that their lily white urban adventures took on a faint tinge of patriotism in the aftermath of the World Trade Center attacks.
Maybe it was the charm of the equine-featured Sarah Jessica Parker, choosing an empowered and creative, but not really sincere, feminine, but not really feminist third way, and even sporting a dress-up tutu on the opening credits that appealed to a 21st century career woman running on empty.
Or maybe it’s just the clothes – like a series of living, talking, sexing Barbie and Friends for grown ups.
I guess what is underneath all the diamond-encrusted brunch plates is the simple tale of the value of friendship, which is a great thing and worth celebrating, most definitely. But this portrait of the four women at the center of the city at the center of this civilization is bleak at best.
(Yeah, I said it.)