Sex and the City – the Review
Okay, I finally humbled myself to watch the much hyped US television series turned full-length movie, Sex and the City. I must confess that I was a fan of the television series (the same way I am a Cheaters fan) the same way I have been of almost all the HBO shows, including their comedies. I was a fan of the prison drama Oz and many other HOB shows because in my own narrow mind their shows are the bomb.

So, here I was drugging myself to finally making time at 00h30 and watching Sex and the City with an intention of finding out what the whole hype was about. For all I know the series and film revolutionized fashion and product placement. Indeed the hype was valid, I was bowled over by the four ladies and the men in their lives, plus a small role by Jeniffer Hudson as Carrie Bradshaw’s PA. I must also confess that I have always liked Big because he struck me as a principled man who loves Carrie without any strings attached. The kind of man who don’t want a piece of paper to validate what he feels. How can a man move in with you if he doesn’t love you?

However on the film his paranoia almost fucks up everything big time. Leaving a woman who has given a photo shoot to Vogue on the aisle is the worst any man can do. While Big didn’t leave Carrie on the aisle he just didn’t show up for the first take at their wedding while Carey was surrounded by friends and well-wishers, partly because of Charlotte’s daughter (go see for yourself what she did) and Miranda, who dished out her frustrations with her man on Big.

I like the director’s treatment of sex; it’s crisp, juicy, sensual and really deep. Carrie, They don’t make love but bonk. However they bonk with a lot of passion, energy and love. There’s a repeated scene of Samantha’s neighbour in Los Angeles who spends his nights bonking on the verandah. And do they make noise? Hell yeah! It becomes interesting when Samantha finally catches the same stud in a ménage trios and their eyes lock when he catches him showering. On the shower that’s when you get to briefly see his sausagy bloated dick and you cease wondering why two chicks were singing his praises one night on the couch.

Sex and the City is a film for the liberal mind and people wanting to learn something about their own relationship dynamics. Love is one thing we all can’t live with or without and it’s important to understand what makes a man put his career before a moment between the thighs of his woman. What makes a woman don’t want a man to change his fuck-position when she’s on the roll. What makes men lose interest and start making calls to Dr Paul. It’s about navigating Chapman’s Peak in a Ferrari or bundu-bashing without a Garmin.

And finally why that man who loves you like a fat kid loves cakes will be the last to put a diamond on your finger while swearing to god that he loves you with all his heart. This is a film to rent out once in a while with your partner, get a bottle of vintage Pinotage and 500 grams of white cheddar and boiled hake. Then get couched under covers on one rainy night and have fun. Enjoy the shortest two and a half hours of your life.

I strongly recommend it even for those who thought the film was about a celebration of gays and oversexed bimbos. Once in a while we all want to have it all; Sex and the bright City lights.

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