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Sunday, May 30, 2010

Sex and the City 2


I just came home from watching Sex and the City 2, and I literally jumped on Blogger to give my opinion on it when it's still fresh in my mind. As expected, the sequel to the 2008 disaster was terrible. The lines were heavily recycled over and over. The humor wanted to be dirty, but instead turned out to be just plain disgusting. The characters' performances were awful, particularly Samantha. The plot was absolutely dumb. Traveling to the Middle East to bring American culture to some strange man's hotel? Dumb.

To begin this god-awful journey, the girls are attending the gay wedding of Anthony and Stanford. (How lovely, a homosexual wedding full gay guests) Carrie is Stanford's best man, so she decides to wear a tuxedo...with it, some Carrie-flair. A strange looking black, feathery crown, I'm guessing?

Anyway, this part is incredibly tedious. The next morning, the girls gather around for breakfast and chit-chat. Samantha begins taking numerous amounts of pills, hormones mostly to keep her "sexy body" alive, which is the foundation of all her "jokes". Charlotte (my favorite) informs her friends of her new nanny, a young, bra less Scottish chick, who attracts the sight of all the husbands. Pretty distracting.

The next is yada yada yada. When the "fun" really starts is when they travel to the exotic land of...Abu Dhabi, somewhere-in-the-Middle-East. After a confusingly random business deal (?), Samantha earns the privilege of taking her friends to this place, all-expense paid. (I guess fucking that mimbo actor paid off, huh?)

So, the girls arrive in Abu, off a gorgeous first-class flight, and they each receive their own mode of transportation. Extravagant much? Then, they go to their hotel (it's like the Taj Mahal!) and meet their own personal slaves (aka butlers).

Unfortunately, at baggage inspection, Samantha's miracle pills were confiscated, so she is hormone free, and sex-free at the moment. Poor old woman. Miranda wants to learn Arabic cultures, therefore is an annoying know-it-all throughout the entire film. Charlotte is desperately paranoid because she believes her husband is having an affair with the large-nipple nanny. Carrie is having marital issues with her husband "Mr. Big" because he makes the idiotic request of having a two-day break from each other every week. And this is supposed to be a good thing. Pretty darn retarded.

As Samantha goes through menopause all over again, Carrie visits the market with Miranda. While Miranda giddily browses through spices, Carrie purchases some hideous shoes with horns on them. Afterwards, she bumps into an old flame. Aidan. They flirtatiously chat about stuff, and eventually have a date, which ends with Aidan kissing Carrie. Gasp! Carries makes the dumbass mistake of confessing to Big about it, and he gives her the cold shoulder for a while. (Later, he caves and they live happily ever after)

Samantha, becoming even more of a bitch without her sexy pills, encounters a mysterious, handsome Australian architect (Art Vandelay!) They soon have the sex...the very public sex in front of conservative, tattletale Arabs. Samantha goes to jail, she gets out, she goes home, she meets Mr. Aussie-Architect, and they have the sex once more.

This movie is all just of nonsense blah-blah-blah. It's pretty much the first Sex and the City movie, but with Arabs. Samantha really gets under my skin here, with her bitchiness and her "I'm-so-much-better-than-you-as-well-as-hotter-than-you-bitch" vibe. Yuck yuck yuck. Carrie's sense of fashion, once again, astounds me, with cardboard hats, puffy tutus and dreadful accessories.

However, I did like that there were some cameos, like Penelope Cruz. Enjoyable. Liza Minnelli was a nice touch, too, but I'd rather not see her dance to "Single Ladies". That was just haunting.

Sex and the City 2 was a horrible movie. The lines, like I said, were repeated over and over, like Carrie's irking "advice". The "dirty jokes" were not funny and either too obvious or too repulsive. Ex: Samantha being taught how to smoke from those Arabian pipes, using sexual slurs that are way too obvious and overused. Wow, sucking on that pipe is like sucking a cock. Ha ha.

Although, no matter how ghastly this movie may be. No matter how truly awful the script is, and how appalling the acting is...I still take pleasure from watching it. You could say that it's a "guilty pleasure" of mine, like Michael Adams would say. I give this a 46/100 'because there is no greater love than fashion'.

(P.S. Michael Adams is the author of the book Showgirls, Teen Wolves, and Astro Zombies: A Film Critic's Year-Long Quest to Find The Worst Movie Ever Made, and has a bunch of terminology I'll be incorporating in my posts. Hope he doesn't mind)

1 comment:

  1. AnonymousJuly 05, 2010

    Hey, girl, it was not thet bed! After all it is "Sex in the City", it is , what it is, take it or live it! TY.

    ReplyDelete