Sex and the City might irritate me more than any other chick flick I have ever watched. I had to dig deep for the power to motor through the back history to this tale. The basic fundamental premise of the film is there are four, 40-something women who live in NY and have the most dysfunctional lives I have ever witnessed.
Here is their background. There is a woman who had a kid out of wedlock, a divorcee, a sexual deviant, and one who gives relationship advice even though every relationship she has had is awful. It is, in a nutshell, a less interesting and poorly written version of The Golden Girls. What bothers me is no guy would hang out with any of these women, and before you go all feminist on me, I want to point out none of these women are marching in the streets about how they are liberated from men.
Nope! Instead they fumble their way through relationships with men who, out of all things, might be the only normal foundation they have. Then… they complain about how men suck! Typical. I get it. It’s not the fact that all of these womens’ actions are inherently irrational. No, it’s those guys who can’t deal with the premonition that to hang out with this group of women they will have suffer through a Courtney Love madhouse of dysfunction. What I don’t understand is the slew of people aspiring to be the characters in this film and are proud of their similarities. Blows my mind. There, you guys got it. Could you imagine your daughter walking up to and saying, “Hey pops, you know what? I want to be a dysfunctional, sexually promiscuous woman who has nothing but a sense of entitlement and complain about everything going wrong in my life, blame it on everyone else, but the one common denominator… ME!” Ah, music to my ears.