A week ago, I had my wisdom teeth out. With an abundance of time on my hands and an HBO subscription, I began watching the hit six-season series “Sex and the City.”
Now, having completely binged the whole show, I can state my honest and completely unwarranted opinion. I believe this Emmy Award-winning comedy has done the almost impossible. It somehow managed to be shallow and ingenuine, and come off as moving and sincere.
It’s an unpopular opinion, but I mean it when I say most of this show was inexcusably superficial. I almost stopped watching it innumerable times, but like a car crash, I could not look away. I forced myself to finish the show, if not just to be able to call myself well informed while I write an article about how “Sex and the City” should not have succeeded the way it did. I will attempt to explain this the best I can, but please be prepared for spoilers.
If you don’t know, the show itself is all about Carrie Bradshaw, a writer, “and her core group of girlfriends as they navigate life and love in New York,” blah blah. Her friends include Miranda Hobbes, Samantha Jones, and Charlotte York; and much of it is a train wreck.
My biggest issue is simple: The lack of character development is appalling. Carrie Bradshaw is a sex columnist, so I guess I understand why all she cares about is guys; it’s her job. Throughout the seasons though, she allows one man, in particular, to blatantly disrespect her, while going by the pseudonym “Big.” Then there’s Miranda. As the show begins I do find myself relating to Miranda’s basic traits: she’s cynical and bitchy. As the seasons pressed on, Miranda quickly became my least favorite character.
Part of being a woman in the world is understanding how quick a man is to call you a bitch for possessing opinions that differ from his, and in some cases, possessing opinions at all. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Miranda is cynical towards other women from her own insecurities and bitchy as a ploy to hide her fear that no man will ever buy into how shamelessly she tends to seek validation from them.
Charlotte began to grow on you as the show progressed, but was the least successful in pushing boundaries. Her character was the most willing to throw her life away for a shitty relationship in the promise of marriage and a baby.
The only quality character this show has to offer is Samantha, but all of her virtuous personality traits such as her confidence and self-respect, are only an ironic way for the inept writers to show their asses. Samantha is the token *woman who enjoys sex*, which only furthers the stigma that most women only have sex in the pursuit of a husband. Her character, in general, would be great if not for the fact that she’s so clearly supposed to be considered the odd one out for not actively pursuing a husband, and for actively pursuing a sex life. Samantha is the only woman on this show who refuses to let a man treat her like she is less than him.
I’m fairly certain “Sex and the City” is also one of the first shows to introduce the whole “gay best friend” character. Let me sum up what this entails: Carrie has a “gay best friend” named Stanford, who we know next to nothing about. For six years we watch Carrie apologize for not paying him enough attention. He has one steady boyfriend through the series and there is an episode in which their relationship is delved into only slightly, and nothing about Stanford’s personal life is seriously mentioned ever.
This is the purest form of dehumanizing a “friend” based on a single quality and using them from them on as a token. Carrie consistently refers to him as her “gay bestie” while not acting like a bestie towards him at all. I believe this show started the trend of using individuals as accessories based on their personal attributes and not acknowledging their thoughts and feelings earnestly.
The last season is the only one with even a slight value. Charlotte meets a wonderful, caring man who would do anything for her. Miranda settles down with the father of her child. Samantha settles down with a kind, beautiful actor that helped her battle with breast cancer. Carrie meets this gorgeous, romantic, artist who thinks she’s a goddess. He invites her to move to Paris with him and she accepts.
However, when he spends too much time working on his installation before it’s exhibition, Carrie decides she can’t handle being ignored and runs away with “Big”. I can’t say I’m surprised since she spends the entire series being uncomfortable with her own company and playing the victim the second she’s expected to give support to her significant other. “Big” shows his unending gratitude by revealing *after six damn years*: His. Real. Name.
I watched the first “Sex and the City” movie as well and finally understood why people use the phrase “disappointed but not surprised”. First of all, I felt like I was watching "Caddyshack." An hour and forty-eight minutes into the movie had yielded almost 2 scenes that furthered the plot even a fraction.
All four girls hear a story about a woman who was in a committed relationship with a man but never married. One day, that woman went home to find her boyfriend had put everything she owned outside, locked the door, and never spoke to her again. When Carrie hears this, she immediately presents the idea of marriage to Big, who agrees this would be a fine idea.
Unsurprisingly, Big leaves her at the altar. This leaves Carrie to spend the rest of the movie finding everyone to blame except for the person truly at fault: Big. Of course, in the end (after realizing Big had built her a bigger closet???) she decides she’ll never find a love so pure and they get back together.
When one of them says, “Why did we even want to get married?” the other responds, “I guess we were afraid of what it would mean if we didn’t.” They revel in their own depth and all I have to say is, “No!! You wanted to get married for the legal certification that prevented him from locking you out of your home!!! You were actually worried that this man could shamelessly leave you HOMELESS!”
Ladies, the bar is low.