WHY do people hate Sex And The City? If I were to slip on a pair of micro shorts, nibble on the fruit from my Cosmopolitan and ponder the big questions in the manner of the highest-paid and highest-heeled journalist in the business, this is the one I would want the answer to.
In the past week, since the release of the film version of the series that made Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte the most famous female foursome on TV (not that there are many to choose from), the knives have come out again. Sex And The City i
s vacuous, materialistic, trite, stupid, anti-feminist, boring, embarrassing and more. And that's just what women think. The New York Times deemed the film "dumpy" and "desperate", the Guardian said it is "unbelievably girly, whirly and twirly", while Scotland on Sunday's own critic wants to see Carrie Bradshaw's head stuffed into a Prada bowling bag.
Critical reception aside, it's fascinating that the only film out this year – and pretty much any year – about a group of independent, intelligent 40-plus women would incite such extreme reactions, and in some cases revulsion. I'm beginning to think this goes beyond simply slamming the film.
Since Sex And The City started, I must have defended it more times than Samantha has got her rocks off. And I'm not about to stop. I remain convinced it is one of the best representations of modern women in popular culture. The women are super-smart, super-stylish and not conventionally beautiful. They talk frankly about sex, care for one another, and take home enormous pay packets for doing... well, what is it they do again?
The comeback is to point the finger at all that whingeing and whining about finding a man. Where's the feminism in chasing Mr Big for six seasons and a two-and-a-half-hour film? Not exactly 'Go girl!' moments, are they? Yet to suggest that it's impossible to be a feminist and at the same time want to share your life with someone is a bizarre criticism. Isn't this exactly the difficulty for successful, independent, single women today? It is for the ones I know. That Sex And The City is precisely about the tension between trying to be strong and wanting someone is why women like it so much. And remember, there is only one Charlotte; only one conventional, marriage-seeking Park Avenue princess, and her naive romanticism is often laughed out of the bar.
I dig the $500 Manolos too, despite having no interest in tottering around in a pair of nosebleeds myself. The fashion – a fifth member of the cast – is camp, surreal and often grotesque, and that's exactly how I like it. If you think that's odd, take a look in any women's glossy and you'll see page after page of it.
Even the outcry about the product placement in the film seems over the top, as though it's the first time a prop has been plugged in celluloid. When it's James Bond's Omega watch or Aston Martin we deem it iconic. But a Vera Wang wedding dress? A Louis Vuitton bag? Shallow, girly frivolity is the verdict. It's a double standard with a distinct whiff of misogyny.
The problem is that Sex And The City has a lot to carry on its couture-clad shoulders. We don't demand that the characters in 24 speak for counter terrorist units everywhere, do we? Films and television series about women for women aren't exactly 10 a penny so when we do get one, it's hardly surprising that we want it to be all things to all women. Actually, as romantic comedy goes, Sex And The City can be pretty revolutionary when it's on top form. Most chick flicks are bland and clichéd. Sex And The City manages to push out of the conventional mould of girl meets Big, loses Big, regains Big (over and over). How? By putting the women centre-stage.
The most important part of Sex And The City is the focus on the women's relationships with each other. I can't think of other examples of this: Rachel, Monica and Phoebe are paired with Ross, Chandler and Joey, Grace has Will, and don't even get me started on those Desperate Housewives.
Genuine, long-standing, grown-up female friendship isn't exactly the meat and potatoes of mainstream cinema, either, and especially not romantic comedy. The story may revolve around sex, but not once do any of the four women compete for a man. In the TV series, it's Carrie who is with Miranda when she gives birth, and Charlotte who lends her a down payment to buy her apartment. A large proportion of the film is about the women rallying around Carrie when the bleeding obvious happens. As for endings, have you ever watched a film where the last scene sees a group of women toasting a 50-year-old's birthday, then drinking to the next 50? Me neither.
