“I thought Sex And The City was supposed to be about cutting-edge fashion and there was nothing remotely memorable or interesting about what I saw . . I went to the premiere and left after ten minutes.”
- Fashion designer Vivienne Westwood, 67, wasn’t impressed with the fashion in Sex and the City despite creating the dress worn by ‘Carrie’ on her wedding day.
So for those of you who are anxiously awaiting your chance to see Sex and the City this weekend, here’s your sneak peek.
This review was published in this morning’s The New Yorker. Of course I’m not sure I agree with it or not, as I haven’t seen the film yet, but it’s well written and super snarky. Just up our alleys, sweethearts.
Article: Anthony Lane/The New Yorker
Illustration: David Hughes
Secrecy has clouded “Sex and the City” since it was first announced. When would the film appear? Who would find a husband? Would one of the main characters die? If so, would she commit suicide by self-pity (a constant threat), or would a crocodile escape from the Bronx Zoo and wreak a flesh-ripping revenge for all those handbags? As the release date neared, the paranoia thickened; at the screening I attended, we were asked not only to surrender our cell phones but to march through a beeping security gate, as if boarding a plane to Tel Aviv. There was even a full-body pat-down, by far the biggest turn-on of the night. Not a drop of the forthcoming plot had been leaked in advance, but I took a wild guess. “Apparently,” I said to the woman behind me in line, “some of the girls have problems with their men, break up for a while, and then get back together again.” “Oh, my God!” she cried. “How do you know?”
What followed was not strictly a movie. It was more like a TV show on steroids. The televised episodes, which ran from 1998 to 2004, lasted for no more than half an hour each. So, spare a thought for the director of the film, Michael Patrick King, who also wrote the screenplay. Faced with the flimsiest of concepts, he had to take it by both ends and pull until he stretched it out to two and a quarter hours. Two and a quarter! When Garbo made “Anna Karenina,” in 1935, she got happy, unhappy, loved, left, and under the train in less than a hundred minutes, so how the hell are her successors supposed to fill the time?
To be fair, there are four of them—banded together, like hormonal hobbits, and all obsessed with a ring. As the story begins, two are married already. First, there is Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), who has a job, a child, and not enough sex with her husband, Steve (David Eigenberg), perhaps because he reminds her of Radar, from “M*A*S*H.” Then comes Charlotte (Kristin Davis), who is blissfully wedded to—well, what is she wedded to, exactly? He goes by the name of Harry (Evan Handler), but he’s a ringer for Dr. Evil, from the “Austin Powers” franchise, with all the evil sucked away; what remains is fey and shiny-headed, smiling sweetly about something known only to himself. For a movie about the need for real men—lusty, loyal, and loaded—this unusual earthling is truly a most peculiar advertisement for the gender.
Kim Cattrall on this morning’s The Today Show. Meredith Vieria asks Kim about her role as Samantha Jones in the new Sex and the City movie, some of the gossip that emerged during filming, her personal life and the relationship with a man 23-years her junior.
Although the women of Sex and the City looked as though they had possibly gotten over their differences at the London premiere, insiders say that wasn’t the case.
Sunday, when arriving at her hotel (Claridge’s), Kim Cattrall, who has had a longstanding feud with Sarah Jessica Parker, asked her driver to let her use the staff entrance so she wouldn’t run into SJP - who would be using the ballroom entrance.
At the premiere Monday night Cattrall left the event early to have dinner with Mario Cantone, who plays ‘Anthony’ in the film. When Daily Mail told the film’s publicists about Kim leaving the event, one of them was heard muttering, “They’ve got pictures of Kim going out for dinner. What are we going to do?” However, one of the publicists, Ruth Dallatt, did the clean-up work and explained, “The reason that Kim and Mario did not watch the film is that they promised their families that they would watch it for the first time together at the premiere in New York.”
Also partaking in a little cattiness was Cynthia Nixon who was overheard talking about SJP’s outlandish pea-green mess of a hat. “What was SJP wearing on her head?,” she said. “What was going on there?”
This Annie Leibovitz photo shoot is HOT!
Dreamy Mr. Big… Can’t you just picture yourself booting SJP’s skinny ass out of there and taking over? Ooohh I can!
Who told Sarah Jessica Parker to wear that hideous weed on her head?
It looks like something you’d find at a secondhand store, all dusty and protruding out from that green styrofoam stuff in a cheap glass vase. Her dress isn’t so bad, but damn, I can’t get past the hat!
I think Cynthia Nixon steals the show for once. She looks demure and that dress is gorgeous with her milky skin. But what I want to know is…where’s BIG?
Can’t wait to see the flick!
