|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Weak gags, below-the-belt American humour, and unimaginative screenplay mark Michael Patrick King’s Sex & the City 2 WHEN reviewing the first part, I said it was not easy to convert TV serials into movies. Serials deal with encounters and with ad breaks, there is a limitation on time and character development. Seeing Sex & the City 2, the feeling is even more distinct and guess what, it is all of 160 minutes with director Michael Patrick King well out of his metier much before the halfway mark. Also, the idea of these four soulmates sharing their sexual fantasies and marital problems is by now as passé as reminiscing those good-old pre-marriage days. Of course, for a while those exotic fashions, snazzy restaurants and the usual glamour and glitz are easy on the eye but for how long? That they decide to visit the Gulf, Abu Dhabi to be precise, doesn’t make a big difference either. It could have had scope for more humour.
Led by author Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker), who is still married, the frivolous foursome includes erogenous singleton Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall), who bandies the F-word liberally, Charlotte York (Kristin Davies), who misses her office job and Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia Nixon), who, for a change, doesn’t jabber as much as others. For variety, we have a brief footage of Liza Minnelli singing and dancing with the gusto of yesteryear, but not the figure, and cute Penelope Cruz whom you could miss with the blink of an eye. For Carrie, it is a case of "physician, heal thyself" for this author of happy marriages is going through a trying time with Mr Big (Chris North), who seems to have lost quite a bit of stature. And when she’s oh-so-guilty about kissing an old boyfriend, it is much ado over nothing. As for the land of Sheikhs and sands and the attention they get, it is all very predictable. The clash of cultures naturally comes to the fore but King’s screenplay could have done with more imagination. The gags are weak and they have to resort to the old Marilyn Monroe trick of showing leg to get a lift but if you’re looking for any cerebral lift, it’s a plain no-no. Sarah Jessica Parker, with her Collie-like face, has most of the footage but, at best, is just about passable and she is supported by Kristin Davies and Cynthia Nixon and maybe the contrast works but Kim Cattrall, that Police Academy woman of a decade ago, is far too brash but for that she must not take all the blame. It is the vulgar, below-the-belt American humour that is the bane of Hollywood these days, that must share the blame. Recommended only for a girls’ night out so you know what not to do on your next hen’s get-together. Men stay away, please.
|
|||
|
|
|||
