It was with much excitement that my best girlfriend and I shimmied our way up the escalator towards the theater to buy tickets for the long awaited Sex and the City movie. After what felt like an eternal hiatus from the screen, my favorite four glamour girls had finally returned! I was intrigued as to the movie's content. What was going to be the show's focus now? Previously on the HBO series, men and fashion had both taken center stage.
At the end of the show's sixth and final season, men had clearly been the primary focus. The girls paired off and settled into their respective nests if you will. Mr. Big had flown to Paris and successfully recaptured Carrie's heart. Charlotte and Harry were on the verge of adopting a little girl from China, while Samantha was moving with Smith to Los Angeles. Lastly, less glamorous though no less in love, Miranda and Steve had decided to move to Brooklyn for the good of their family. What more could the movie add? The anticipated happy endings were well on their way unfolding.
Or were they? I wondered if the movie would feature mere endings instead. Would Carrie and Mr. Big marry? What about Samantha and Smith? Were they still as sexy as ever, or now settled and serious? Was Miranda going to head back into Manhattan rather than stay in Brooklyn? Last but not least, would Charlotte find her fairy tale relationship with Harry enduring or eclipsed by something else? Not to mention, what about wardrobe? Will Jimmy Choos, Manolos and Birken bags no longer feature prominently as important feature of the mise-en-scene? Previous episodes had set the bar high in terms of haute-couture clothing that not only drew attention to a totally fantastical and glamorous world, but also, emphasized different facets of the girls' individual personalities. These questions spun around in my mind as we entered the darkened room and tuned out the previews.
Throughout the movie, I cried, laughed, and then cried some more as all my questions were answered and then some. The movie had undoubtedly struck a chord with me and not just any chord: it was a positive one. The movie certainly dealt with a lot of complex and crucial relationship issues in its two-hour time span: adultery, pregnancy, being left at the altar…essentially the strains of monogamy. So why did I feel that the movie was an uplifting one overall?
Simple, the movie affirmed the reality that all relationships have bumps. I was now freed of the nagging doubts in my mind that somehow it was entirely my fault, consciously or subconsciously, that my relationships have ended. The movie emphasized the fact that each partner contributes to the growth, as well as the destruction of a relationship. Moreover, when desired enough, both partners can also contribute to the salvaging of a broken bond. In a society where everything is disposable from take-out boxes to quickie-divorces, I found it quite refreshing to find a major motion picture advocating for forgiveness and reconstruction.
Another uplifting story arc, which ran consistently throughout the series and was highlighted even more in the movie, is that of friendship. If the film was chopped up to form a montage, it would be a series of clips depicting the girls laughing together, crying together, defending one another, talking together, fighting together, and forgiving together. To have a strong network of supportive friends is a fabulous safety net against those times when the rug will inevitably be pulled under you, the movie seems to say. Who could possibly argue against such reasonable logic?
One character who seemed to escape unscathed from the plague of relationship problems inflicted upon the other three characters was Charlotte. She herself acknowledged on screen that nothing bad had happened to her… yet. Then in the next moment, she voiced a concern which I am sure most of us have wrestled with: “I'm so happy that I'm afraid something really bad is going to happen soon.” I too have battled this fear - fear of the unknown that is. I, like Charlotte, have also dreaded the possibility of doom brought by the thought of tomorrow, even as I reveled in the present moment of pure bliss. And I also hope that like Charlotte, I too will conquer this irrational fear.
When the movie was over, I exited the theater with a feeling of relish. Not just for the gratifying sight of beautiful clothes, shoes, and bags (with the exception of the multi-colored Louis Vutton which had colors reminiscent of a mustard, ketchup, hot dog surrounded by a whole wheat bun), but for the fact that the movie reminded me of the joys of fabulously in-disposable relationships in a time of disposable everything else. I drove home, joyfully relieved and almost grateful for a reminder that to err is human, most things in life are fixable, and more often than not, the most fearful thing is fear itself.
