View Full Version : Movies and TV Sex/City 2: Best movie review ever

Cave Johnson
05-28-2010, 12:47 PM
We've been thinking it for two long years. All of us. Gnawing our cheeks at night, clutching at sweaty sheets, our faces hollow and gray, our once-bright eyes dimmed by the pain of too many questions. Sometimes we cry out, en masse, to a faceless god and a cold, indifferent universe that holds its secrets close. What... rasps the death rattle of our collective sanity. What is the lubrication level of Samantha Jones's 52-year-old vagina? Has the change of life dulled its sparkle? Do its aged and withered depths finally chafe from the endless pounding, pounding, pounding—cruel phallic penance demanded by the emotionally barren sexual compulsive from which it hangs? If I do not receive an update on the deep, gray caverns of Jones, I shall surely die!

Please don't die. The answer is... fine. Samantha's vagina is doing fine. She rubs yams on it, okay? She takes 48 vagina vitamins a day. It accepts unlimited male penises with the greatest of ease. Now let us never speak of it again.

Sex and the City 2 makes Phyllis Schlafly look like Andrea Dworkin. Or that super-masculine version of Cynthia Nixon that Cynthia Nixon dates. Or, like, Ralph Nader (wait, bad example—Schlafly totally does look like Ralph Nader in a granny wig). SATC2 takes everything that I hold dear as a woman and as a human—working hard, contributing to society, not being an entitled cunt like it's my job—and rapes it to death with a stiletto that costs more than my car. It is 146 minutes long, which means that I entered the theater in the bloom of youth and emerged with a family of field mice living in my long, white mustache. This is an entirely inappropriate length for what is essentially a home video of gay men playing with giant Barbie dolls. But I digress. Let us start with the "plot."

Carrie Bradshaw: At the end of the first SATC movie (2008)—after eleventy decades of chasing his emotionally abusive jowls through the streets of Manhattan—Carrie finally marries Mr. Big, the man of her shallow, self-obsessed dreams. It has now been two years since their nuptials. Carrie already hates it. She hates that he sits on the couch. She hates that he eats noodles out of a take-out box. She hates that he wants to spend quality time with her in their incredibly expensive and gaudy apartment. She hates that he bought her an enormous television. When Big suggests that they spend a couple of days a week in separate apartments (they own TWO apartments, because life is hard!), Carrie screeches, "Is this because I'm a bitch wife who nags you?" Congratulations. You have answered your own question.

Miranda Redhairlawyerface: Miranda is a lawyer who has red hair. She also has a child. As a working woman, Miranda is forced to miss every single one of her child's incessant science fairs (as though children know anything of science!). Also, her lawyer boss is a cartoon dick. Miranda quits her job, and everyone is much happier. This is because women should not work. It is terrible for the children.

Charlotte Goldsteinjewyjewsomethingsomethingblatt: Life for Charlotte is unbelievably difficult. As a wealthy stay-at-home mom with two children and a live-in, full-time nanny, she sometimes has to bake cupcakes! Also, one time her little child got finger paint on a piece of vintage cloth. Therefore, Charlotte cannot stop crying. "How do the women without help do it?" Charlotte (crying) asks Miranda. "I have no fucking idea," Miranda replies. Then they toast their disgusting glasses of pink syrup. To "them." To the "women without help." "If I wasn't rich, I'd definitely just kill myself right away with a knife!" says everyone in this movie without having to actually say it. Clink!

Samantha Jones: I told you we are never to speak of this.

In order to escape their various imaginary problems, our intrepid foursome traipses off to dark, exotic Abu Dhabi ("I've always been fascinated by the Middle East—desert moons, Scheherazade, magic carpets!"). When they arrive, Carrie, because she is a professional writer, announces, "Oh, Toto—I don't think we're in Kansas anymore!" Each woman is immediately assigned an extra from Disney's Aladdin to spoon-feed her warm cinnamon milk in their $22,000-per-night hotel suite. Things seem to be going great. But very quickly, the SATC brain trust notices that it's not all swarthy man-slaves and flying carpets in Abu Dhabi! In fact, Abu Dhabi is crawling with Muslim women—and not one of them is dressed like a super-liberated diamond-encrusted fucking clown!!! Oppression! OPPRESSION!!!

This will not stand. Samantha, being the prostitute sexual revolutionary that she is, rages against the machine by publicly grabbing the engorged penis of a man she dubs "Lawrence of My-Labia." When the locals complain (having repeatedly asked Samantha to cover her nipples and mons pubis in the way of local custom), Samantha removes most of her clothes in the middle of the spice bazaar, throws condoms in the faces of the angry and bewildered crowd, and screams, "I AM A WOMAN! I HAVE SEX!" Thus, traditional Middle Eastern sexual mores are upended and sexism is stoned to death in the town square.

At sexism's funeral (which takes place in a mysterious, incense-shrouded chamber of international sisterhood), the women of Abu Dhabi remove their black robes and veils to reveal—this is not a joke—the same hideous, disposable, criminally expensive shreds of cloth and feathers that hang from Carrie et al.'s emaciated goblin shoulders. Muslim women: Under those craaaaaaay-zy robes, they're just as vapid and obsessed with physical beauty and meaningless material concerns as us! Feminism! Fuck yeah!

If this is what modern womanhood means, then just fucking veil me and sew up all my holes. Good night.


05-28-2010, 01:04 PM
If you go to rotten tomatoes and just look at the one or two exerpts of the reviews, some of them are hilarious. Just totally trashing the movie.


05-28-2010, 01:10 PM

I've often wondered if Sara Jessica Parker realizes she's ugly.

05-28-2010, 01:10 PM
Holy shit - even better because it's written by a women.

Awesome! :clap:

05-28-2010, 01:11 PM

I've often wondered if Sara Jessica Parker realizes she's ONE OF THE UGLIEST FUCKING WOMEN ON THE PLANET.


05-28-2010, 01:12 PM
Holy shit - even better because it's written by a women.

Awesome! :clap:

Indeed! Pure brilliance....

05-28-2010, 01:19 PM
If you go to rotten tomatoes and just look at the one or two exerpts of the reviews, some of them are hilarious. Just totally trashing the movie.


Future Bolsheviks will use Sex and the City 2 as a recruiting film.


05-28-2010, 01:21 PM
Ebert has been trashing it nonstop for a while.

05-28-2010, 01:23 PM
Thank Jimmy Choo for feminism! Am I right, ladies? I mean, not the nasty hairy feminism that’s all about equal pay and publicly subsidized day care and all that nonsense: All a girl needs to do is catch herself a Mr. Big, and then she can hire a full-time live-in nanny and do whatever “work” she wants to do for fun, like writing books about her sex life or calling it “PR” when she fucks a movie star and later brags in this week’s hot nightspot about what a great lay she was with him. Now that’s fun!

No, thank Jimmy Choo for the kind of feminism that has freed women to have as much awesome fun as possible! I’m talking about the fabulous kind of feminism, where wealthy white privilege is healing and a gal is liberated from having to be “interesting” -- we all know that’s code for “dog” anyway -- or having to think about anything unpleasant, unless it’s about menopause or being forced to sit around a boring old pre-war Fifth Avenue apartment -- not even a penthouse! -- with her boring old husband.

But a woman should be free from having to think about anything. Oh, it’s so frustrating! I don’t know how Carrie puts up with Big, who leaves her alone all day while he’s working, doing whatever it is he does with all his money, investing or something, and then doesn’t even have the decency to head out onto the town with her in the evening. What a rat! And after she’d gone to all the trouble of decorating that flat with the most expensive furniture she could find on Madison Avenue. “I’ve been cheating on fashion with furniture,” Carrie tells a shop assistant who hasn’t seen her in a while. And that’s one of the things I love about Carrie and her besties: they say stuff that sounds smart without sounding like they actually think about anything at all! Because only ugly unfabulous girls like actually thinking about stuff. There’s no reason to have to think about things. Life is fun! Have a cocktail and relax!

Oh, how I love Sex and the City 2! It gives you exactly the same feeling you get from the September Vogue every year: lots and lots of ads about lots of shiny sparkly things that cost an absolute fortune and make you feel so great that you can’t stop buying! It used to be (or so I read in The Feminine Mystique, which is this great old book from like the 1800s or something) that women were only supposed to buy, like, cake mixes and washing machines, but now feminism means that women can spend all their money on shoes and vintage Valentino and botox and $25 mixed drinks. And I’m sorry, but anyone who says that it doesn’t make sense to wear vintage Valentino while you’re making cupcakes for your kid’s school or to wear a formal ballgown skirt and a $200 T-shirt in an Abu Dhabi marketplace is just jealous, and probably too poor to be able to afford it. Get yourself a Mr. Big, girlfriend! Or at least write a book about your sex life.

Ah, yes, so Carrie and Samantha and Miranda and the other one go to Abu Dhabi, which is this fantastic place in the Middle East. And they get to go for free, because Samantha fucked that movie star and now he’s an even huger movie star, and the Abu Dhabi Arab guys want Samantha to do the same for Abu Dhabi, too! That turns out to be really funny, actually. Of course you’ve heard about how awful the Middle East is for women, but it turns out that it’s not really that bad, and the women there are all fabulous under their burqas and all read Suzanne Somers books about hormones, just like Samantha does. And Samantha gets to “fuck” nasty Arab men and their nasty Arab hangups about women -- it’s because they don’t like feminists. I’ve heard those news stories about Westerners in the Middle East who end up in jail for months or years just because they kiss in a public place, but I don’t believe it, because it that were true, Samantha would totally be, like, executed for what she does! So it can’t be true.

I guess really the whole point of the movie is for Big to learn how special Carrie is, because she happens to run into her old boyfriend Aidan in Abu Dhabi -- I know! it’s like that one time I ran into my cousin at Bergdorf! Because earlier Carrie had told Big that they need to “work on the sparkle” in their relationship, and then along comes Aidan who tells Carrie how she’s not like any other woman! And it’s true, because Carrie wrote books about her sex life, which hardly anyone else does, but she can also talk about shoes and shopping. And then Big gives her some more bling, which is so romantic I could die. Because we all know that when Carrie said she wanted more sparkle in their relationship, that’s what she meant.


05-28-2010, 01:48 PM
I already assumed the show was a cartoon character, I just liken the moves to like GI joe in the 90's We go the characters, but we got to make their BICEPTS TWICE AS BIG, AND A SNARL!

05-28-2010, 02:02 PM
Well, this guy compares it to the Empire Strikes Back.


05-28-2010, 07:04 PM
That was awesome.

Hammock Parties
05-29-2010, 11:48 AM
I liked the first one.

05-29-2010, 01:46 PM
...essentially a home video of gay men playing with giant Barbie dolls.
This is the best line.