Sex and the City 2: Oh. My. Word

That is my eloquently worded review of Sex and the City 2.

[Warning: I am about to spoil much of the movie, so if you haven't seen it, don't read this. Also, if you are a die hard SATC fan who thinks that everything SATC is amazing... you might hate me by the end of this.]

[Bigger Warning: This article contains harsh language and lots of sexual talk. If that offends you, please don't read on.]

Last night, I headed to the theater with three friends to watch SATC2. It was one friend's birthday. I feel, after watching the movie, that we owe her some kind of "do-over" birthday girl's night.

Ooh, get this: I was carded to get into the movie {yay!} and then, when I handed my ticket to the ticket-tearer lady, she held it away from me, looked me up and down and asked, "How old are you?" I could barely get out "Twenty-seven!" between chuckles of flattery.

C'mon people, I mean, I know I look young, but I do not look like I'm younger than seventeen. Not that I'm complaining, of course.

So, the movie starts.

The beginning was actually really entertaining with some quick flashbacks of styles from the 80s and how Carrie and her friends looked back then. Pretty creatively done, too. I enjoyed it.

Then we were brought back to now and the screen and dialogue exploded with a mass of "gay" references, quips, and jokes that made me cringe a little bit because it felt so... so, not PC (yes, I am a Charlotte, as much as I'd like to be a Carrie). Discomfort was replaced with a groaning eye-roll when Liza Minnelli stepped out to officiate the gay wedding and delivered her awesomely cheesy cameo one-liner, "Weddings are supposed to be serious {pause for effect}. At least that's what I've been told."

Bah-dum-chhhh.

It all got worse. So, so much worse.

A beat bumped through the speakers as the wedding scene faded to the reception party. It was a familiar, awesome beat. Single Ladies! Beyonce! Woo! SATC2 has it right with this soundtrack, good on ya, writers.

Wait. What's this?

Liza Minnelli, dressed in high boots, black sheer tights and a short sequin-y dress, "singing" and grooving along with the song?

Bad writers. Very, very bad writers. Go to your room.

It was a little like watching a train wreck and not being able to turn away. And it wasn't a little snippet of the song. Oh no. It was The. Whole. Damn. Thing.

We weren't laughing with you, Liza. We were definitely laughing at you.

The rest of Sex and the City 2 went pretty far down hill from there.

Samantha liner about balls, all the girls giggle.

Miranda is addicted to her job, there's tension, and "Why don't you just quit?"

Samantha liner about "down under," all the girls giggle.

Charlotte freaks out about things she doesn't need to, as usual.

Samantha drops an f-bomb, all the girls giggle. (And all of the 17 year olds in the theater giggled too. "Ohmigawd, did she just say the 'f' word??")

Carrie is just... There. Whining about this ridiculously uncomfortable-looking couch she and Big own and the fact that she doesn't want to turn into that lame couple who sits around all the time.

Samantha says something else sexual.

I have come to a conclusion: When you don't have small children grating on your nerves throughout the day, you can put up with the annoyingness of long, train-flowing-behind-you dresses and nightgowns, like Carrie apparently does.

Another aspect that made me uncomfortable was the fact that these four insanely wealthy, flashy, skin-revealing women went to Abu Dhabi, a place that has qualms about public displays of affection, let alone sex. It bothered me and rubbed me the wrong way. Plus, the disrespect that was shown against the Arab views of modesty... I get that it's a movie, don't misunderstand. But that is still a place, it's still their culture, and I felt like Sex and the City 2 was, in a way, poking fun at it. That made me feel really ick. (Interesting enough, it was filmed in Morocco, not in Abu Dhabi. Check out this article from The Wall Street Journal.)

The single thing that lost me for the entire movie, though, was near the beginning. Carrie was writing up an article for Vogue and, after pouring over it for two straight days, printed it out on the computer. The title read "Marriage and the Terrible Two's."

Two's?

Whose two is it, exactly?

For Heaven's sake, she's a writer. Of all the things they should have been paying attention to, it should have been that dog-gone erroneous apostrophe.

Then, there were the blindingly obvious product plugs. It was almost as bad as on Biggest Loser when Jillian brings everyone into the kitchen just to tell them that chewing Extra gum will help hold off hunger. As a marketing major, I appreciate creative advertising. Blatant, cheesy, obvious product placement is the opposite of creative.

[Take that Suzanne Somers, I'm not buying your book. Ha!]

There were some redeeming aspects to Sex and the City 2, however. The scene where Miranda and Charlotte were having drinks and letting themselves be honest about motherhood and how crappy it can be was incredibly relateable and real. My favorite line, after Charlotte asked how moms take care of their kids without a nanny, was Miranda's awe-filled response, "I have no fucking clue."

Can I get a wut-wuuut for all the mamas out there?

I also thoroughly enjoyed the tasty man visuals. Thankfully, there wasn't a nekkid penis in this one ('cuz really, they aren't so attractive, ya know?), but plenty of abs, buns, and a clothed boner that was pretty dog-gone funny.

The best part, though?

The end. When the credits rolled.

I am incredibly thankful that I have friends with such great senses of humor. If I were the only one snort-laughing at the ridiculousness of the entire movie, I'm pretty sure the car ride home would've been a bit tense. And, I have to agree with a friend who came with us. We definitely should go out somewhere to chat next time. Although, at least we'll have this experience to laugh over. And over. And over.

In Samantha's own, horribly delivered, way to young for her to be saying words... "Word."