Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes
If you need it in brief: The Sex and The City Movie is fabulous. Go. Now.
If you need it longer, then perhaps you are more like Samantha.
I’m not; but beyond all of the “which SATC girl are you” (the quizzes where the gay boys wind up choosing between Carrie’s Stanford and Charlotte’s Anthony), is where the heart of the matter actually lies. The Sex and The City Movie succeeds best - and it frankly exceeded every expectation I had - because it’s all about not believing your own press. Because it’s not about Cosmos, or Manolos, or gay pals, or even man candy.
It’s about love. And what we’ll do for it.
The early reviews alluded to it, but until I saw it, I didn’t understand why; and now I can only tell you what they said. The film sets up Carrie’s wedding to Mr. Big (John James Preston, apparently), only to provide a big twist that drives the rest of the story. If it’s not what I thought (no one dies, though you, like Charlotte, may wish they did), it’s every bit as heartbreaking. And more.
The film takes the challenge of upping the ante on a TV series admirably, and meets it head on. There’s a lot going on here, on several levels, and it’s to Michael Patrick King’s credit, as writer and director, that he’s got such a clear-eyed sense of these characters, who they are, and their possibilities. And he succeeds best by getting back to the basics, by remembering who these women are, what they love… and who.
Like the best romances I’ve seen these days, Sex succeeds by stripping away the gloss and happy expectations; much of the film sears like a raw wound, and more than any episode of the show, I was moved to tears any number of times. The film gives Sarah Jessica Parker more to do as Carrie, and a bigger emotional range to work with than she’s had in some time, and Parker rises admirably to it. I’d forgotten what she’s capable of, and she goes to the heart of Carrie’s despair and comes back, different, but not broken.
Most of all, the film celebrates the strength and power of female friendship. Carrie’s initial heartbreaking moments are reminders of what she gets from her friends: Charlotte’s fierce protectiveness, Samantha’s caring without reserve, Miranda’s steely resolve. And each of her friends is tested as well.
Though I have minor quibbles - the end of Samantha’s storyline seems a little unnatural and out of character, Kristen Davis has little, really to do - overall the film swings for the fences and makes it. That’s due in no small measure to adding Jennifer Hudson, proving that Dreamgirls was no fluke, in a sensitive portrayal with a dynamite song that will send you out into the world believing love is possible.
And yes, that’s before we get to the clothes, and the shoes. And naturally, New York.
Perhaps no modern dress project has come to film so dependent on the visual elements since The Devil Wears Prada (which, coincidentally shares Pat Field on costumes), and like that film, it’s New York and high style, and it has to be right to be real, and real to be right. Field is, of course, her usual genius self: the dresses are stunning, and I mean right down to the throwaway moments where what they’re wearing is the least of what’s happening (my fave is a navy and cream geometric print chemise on Miranda that I’d kill for, but there are, literally, dozens), never mind the big set pieces like Carrie’s Vivienne Weswood wedding dress. New York, too, has not looked this good and this real in quite a while; King loses none of the appealing realness that drove the series while broadening the canvas (and he doesn’t overdo the LA style either, giving us a surprisingly realistic Malibu). Though it would be easy to say the film is all about a dress (that Westwood) or a pair of shoes (an exceptional pair of Blahniks with a jeweled ring on the bottom of the heel), what’s best about the film is that the costumes help tell a story… they’re just not the whole story.
Of course, none of this would work without the men, and all of them, but especially Chris Noth and David Eigenberg, reprise their roles with grace and sensitivity (that could also be said of Mario Cantone, whose Anthony remains his best role yet). That’s also true, as if it needs to be said, of the lead actresses. As I said, Parker’s terrific, but Cynthia Nixon sparkles, Kim Cattrall shines, and Kristen Davis continues to amaze.
Ultimately, The Sex and The City Movie asks us what we can forgive, what we can accept and how can we go on. And amazingly, just when you think it’s all been said, and done, SATC finds more in its characters, more in their hearts, and a way to get big and grow up. It would have been easy to do a dopey, jokey, prop laden affair that was more bag porn than real film; SATC wisely ignores the hype to be what it should be: a real gem, that you can only find in New York.
Crossposted at NYCweboy
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