How the ‘Sex and the City’ Movie Punished Me Last Night
I was dumbfounded and left bleeding by the end
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Charlotte (Kristin Davis), Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), Samantha (Kim Cattrall) and Miranda (Cynthia Nixon)
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Last night it appears Sex and the City premiered just about everywhere for reviewing press. Not only did it mark the long awaited New York City premiere finally washing the bitter taste out of Manhattanites’ mouths after the film made its world premiere in London, but it also debuted in theaters around the United States. The screening was set to begin here in Seattle at 7:30 PM, an odd time for a start since screenings virtually always begin at 7:00 PM, which told me something was up. I only mention this because New Line was being very inflexible and not willing to move their screening date as it had a conflict with Universal’s The Strangers, which screened last night as well and I have now missed and will need to catch a matinee showing on Friday in order to get a review online (joy!). It should be noted Universal was also unwilling to move their screening or set up another one, which tells me a lot about the quality of that film.
Anyway, this is about Sex and the City, a film made for women of just about any age. As long as you are spreading your legs and waking up the next morning to discuss it this is the movie for you. I had actually only seen one episode of “Sex and the City” and it was under a massive protest, but she assured me it was good and I, for the life of me, can’t remember what the episode was about (something about a pregnancy and I think a breast pump). Nevertheless, it didn’t stick, but I was willing to give the movie a chance.
So, I show up at the theater45 minutes early, expecting to find my usual aisle seat so I can stretch out my legs (I’m 6′6″ if you haven’t heard me say it before). Unfortunately the theater is almost half-filled at this point and I am told it is because everyone in the “industry” has been invited.
The “industry”?
What the hell is that? I ask.
People that report on movies in any capacity, is the answer I am given. I look around and I just don’t believe it. Seattle is not exactly a hot bed for movie and entertainment, which is why it always baffles me when people come out of the woodworks to catch early screenings of the bigger films. It just goes to show the abuse of the system that is in place. It’s always amusing to see some of the faces that show up at an Indiana Jones screening as compared to What Happens in Vegas. One thing is certain, about 95% of the people that were “in the industry” at the Sex and the City screening I had never seen before. So what exactly they really did was beyond me.
However, this is not a problem. What do I care who sees the movie along with me? I just want to see the movie myself so I can report on it. Well, the people in attendance were the least of my worries. Up on the big screen in front of me was the “live” (not really) New York red carpet premiere hosted by Entertainment Tonight fashion correspondent Steven Cojocaru. Yeah, I had to Google the shit out of the Internet before I found out who that was and I will tell you how I found his name in a second.
Cojocaru (whom I understand now goes by Cojo) I wouldn’t even describe as flamboyant, this guy is an unrestrained ring leader bouncing around on uppers. The only interview he had that was able to contain him was with costume designer Patricia Field, whom herself looked like she had just snorted about ten lines of coke before her arrival. Field was batshit loopy, but the woman she was hugging on the red carpet was quite attractive. Some speculated it was her girlfriend, but it turns out it was Candace Bushnell, author of the book “Sex and the City” and she is married and most certainly not dating Patricia Field (That’s them to the right).
So, after 15 minutes of enduring the last half of the red carpet arrivals Cojo comes on and says the movie is ready to begin. I look at my watch. 7:00. “You are gonna tinkle in your Cosabella thong!” Cojo tells me. That confused me, but the words “Sex and the City” and “tinkle” are how I found him so thank the Lord he used them (that’s him just below).
At this time no one else has been admitted into the theater. The tape-delayed man on the screen tells me the movie is starting. I’m confused. And then… Cojo comes on again and tells me, “You are gonna tinkle in your Cosabella thong!” I am starting to believe him even though I don’t even know who/what Cosabella is and I don’t own a thong, but I am pretty sure the movie isn’t starting… and it wasn’t. What began next was a 30 minute countdown… to… Yup, the Sex and the City Red Carpet Arrivals!
At this time it is just past 7:00 pm and for the next 15 minutes or so we get several mini-featurettes on the making of the movie, a trailer and then the Red Carpet Arrival all over again. While this did afford me the chance to once again see a coked out Patricia Field and Jennifer Hudson with her tits on a shelf, it was a nightmare. By the time Cojo was telling me I was going to “tinkle” for the third time I actually wanted to punch him in the knee cap (seems like it would hurt). Not only that, it is now 8:00 PM and the movie is 2 hours and 20 minutes long!
Still, let’s give the movie a chance. First up, the trailer for Nights in Rodanthe “From the author of ‘The Notebook’ and ‘Message in a Bottle’”. Kill me, kill me now. The sap oozed off the screen just as the credits for Sex began with Fergie’s “Labels or Love” playing behind a montage of clips from the HBO show to catch the non-”Sex” fans up on what they didn’t already know. It doesn’t really help…
I am going to save my official review for Friday, but I will tell you that the first 40 minutes storm by. Carrie and Mr. Big plan their wedding, Samantha lives in L.A., Charlotte is happy as can be and Miranda is having marriage troubles. Then the wheels fall off and you get a romantic comedy staple, “the misunderstanding,” and the final hour and 40 minutes are all a result of that misunderstanding. There are good bits in-between all the juxtaposition, but at one point I turned to the person next to me and said, “This is fucking long!” and there were still about 30 minutes to go.
This film defies all rom-com stereotypes outside of that unnecessary misunderstanding and relies on every kind of raunchy joke you can think of and even a poop joke (a real poop joke). Ladies get a glorified dick shot and plenty of man ass to go around. It’s a whirlwind, and had I not had to endure it for as long as I did perhaps my opinion would be more favorable, but I’ll be damned if the presentation didn’t turn me off completely.
I end up getting home at about 10:45. Considered writing this up last night, but my head hurt and staring at a glowing computer screen just wasn’t going to happen.
I heard some of the audience members discussing certain portions of the movie as they left, but I wouldn’t be surprised if even they felt the length of the movie beginning to wear on them. After all, not only was I sitting in the theater for over three hours, they were in there for just shy of three and that can really begin to hurt not only your eyes and brain but most certainly your ass.
Sex and the City hits theaters this Friday, May 30. For more on the film click here.
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