Yesterday, due to not having anyone around to bone down with, and having already wasted half the morning f’n the b, I decided to go see Sex and the City II: Still Obnoxious. Somehow convincing the guy who lives beneath me to go, we set off with low to sub-par expectations. Blame it on being a girl, or maybe just on the fact that I enjoy watching vapid bitches flash their tits, and use men for their money, but I really liked the series, and even enjoyed the first movie. This one, however, was like the Hindenburg, lacking the explosions and excitement, but including the smell of shit on fire and facial deformities.
The first one was good enough to entertain the group of 12 guys I went with (who were not gay), to the point where actual chuckles escaped from their mouths. First one showed a flaccid dick, and Miranda’s raging bush. Second one showed only one pair of tits, and no man-meat at all. The film includes a pivotal scene where the girls, sounding like dying walruses, sing along to “I Am Woman” at a karaoke bar; which is the quickest boner-killer I’ve ever seen or heard.
The synopsis of this movie is that as the women reach menopause, they become boring and useless; which I suppose should earn some points for accurately depicting real life. That’s about where the authenticity ends, though, as they decide to go on an all-expenses-paid trip to Abu Dhabi. Staying at a Sheikh hotel, the movie is comprised of puns that are just as bad as the first half of this sentence. Lacking any real dialogue, besides the scenes where Carrie is nagging her husband–Mr. Big–incessantly, there isn’t much anyone can actually relate to.
And maybe that’s the point? Women go to watch films like this, because it’s something that they’ll never have, but wish they could. Paid trips to foreign lands with corrupt ideologies, the lack of shame it takes to wear some of the outfits they do, and the amount of money it takes to make a mole magically disappear.
As soon as the movie began, Kanden and I knew we were doomed, and for whatever reason endured it until the end. The end being 2 1/2 hours later. The only thing that made the movie at all bearable was the droves of women we were surrounded by. Obviously market researchers did their homework, because these bitches were in stitches; acting like Sarah J.P.’s Jude Law puns were the funniest god damn thing they have ever heard; and sadly, maybe it was. It also helped that there were several drunk females yelling boisterously at the screen, and falling off their chairs into the aisles. If it hadn’t been for them, the entertainment value of the movie would be worse than that one Gus Van Sant film where nothing happens really slowly.
As far as the tumultuous contention that has to take place between everyone in this film, I’ll lay it out for you. Carrie and Big are bored with each other, because they’re married now. Big suggests taking two days out of the week, for the couple to spend in separate apartments; which garnered a collective gasp from the audience, and a “that sounds fucking perfect” from Kanden and me. Charlotte is worried her Jewish husband will cheat on her with the big-titted, braless nanny, but doesn’t want to actually take care of her kids herself. Miranda quits her job and is surprisingly the most likable character of this movie, which probably has something to do with the fact that she has the least amount of lines. Samantha is losing her slut juice, and still looks old.
Go and see this movie if you enjoy being out $13, and left feeling like a victim. Oh, and guys, if your girlfriends try to get you to go to this shit, make sure that the pay-off is worth it; I mean, this movie is like ass-to-mouth bad. Just sayin’.