‘And Just Like That…’ the end of the line?
by Mark Brinkherhoff
A month into the new year, and we find ourselves already at the end of season one of And Just Like That…, a “new chapter” of Sex and the City. Who among us, TFE readers, has been watching Sex and the City: Redux? A better question perhaps: Who among us hasn’t?
For those in the know, it has been 12 years (!!!) since the sequel to the feature film continuation of the iconic late ’90s/early ’00s HBO series premiered—and revolted critics and fans alike with its bewildering, tone-deaf storylines set amid a real, ongoing financial crisis. (Abu-Dhabi-do, anyone?) That the legacy of Sex and the City, already oft-critiqued and amply picked apart, managed to retain goodwill following the abysmal sequel speaks to how potent a connection it had—and has—with devotees of the original TV incarnation. And legacies like that rarely remain untouched, dormant; not in today’s content-driven, streaming-dominant entertainment culture. Which led then, almost a quarter century after its debut, to the reintroduction of Sex and the City’s principle quartet—except now it’s essentially a trio, as Kim Cattrall infamously (and wisely?) opted not to reprise her legendary role of sex-positive Samantha Jones. We were off to a rocky (re)start right there.
Longtime fans of the series know well that Sex and the City, which at its core was a valentine to New York, had a…diversity problem—a lack of diversity that bordered on perversity, particularly considering the hyper diversity of the actual city routinely called the fifth character on the show. It stands to reason then that updating Sex and the City to the 2020s would mean course-correcting on the diversity and inclusion (among other) fronts.
Yet something surely unintended went awry with the new and improved (?) alchemy: Those who (re)conceived this show seem to have lost sight of more than a few fundamental truths they established that made Carrie, Charlotte and Miranda Carrie, Charlotte and Miranda. Which is to say…what have they done with our ladies?!
Having finished the final episode of the season (which, to its credit, does end on a quintessentially hopeful, promising Sex and the City note), I must say that (a) it is nice to have the gang back (b) despite some truly baffling character decisions that, in the context of established narratives, are so out of the place as to appear out of this world. Unreal. Outrageous. Absurd.
Much has been made of the new BIPOC members of the cast: sassy Seema Patel, Carrie’s realtor friend (and obvious Samantha Jones stand-in); elegant Lisa Todd Wexley, Charlotte’s private school cohort; and Dr. Nya Wallace, Miranda’s professor-turned-confidante of sorts—all lovely additions. Even more ink has been spilled, re: Che Diaz, Carrie’s boss (not to mention Miranda’s inexplicable love interest) and perhaps the most talked about/polarizing character of the entire season. To know Che is to love/loathe Che, no matter how many “comedy concerts” are thrown in to try to convince us otherwise. That die has been cast.
What I found most remarkable about the new contours and configurations of this Sex and the City update is how oddly they seemed to render the initial quartet. Miranda, previously the most competent, self-possessed of the group, who has quit her law firm job in order to purse a Master’s in Human Rights, suddenly is an awkward, misguided SJW, a loose-cannon Karen who makes frequent, public faux-pas and at home permits her teenage son to have loud sex with basically his live-in girlfriend. Charlotte, for years involved in the New York art scene as a gallery director, apparently has zero friends or even acquaintances of color, which puts her in an uncomfortable spot at a dinner party.
And Carrie, still more or less Carrie (make of that what you will), would have us believe that Samantha decamped to London (OK, fine) after a falling out (err…) over being “fired” as Carrie’s publicist (?) because of changing book market dynamics or something. (As if Samantha, canonically loyal and nonjudgmental, who let Carrie pay her for PR services with “two martinis and a lunch,” would ever respond that way to or cease contact with the girls over something so monumentally petty and ultimately inconsequential. Also: Why then does Samantha respond instantly to Carrie’s texts?) Uncharacteristic doesn’t begin to describe such whiplash-inducing swerves in show logic.
I, for one, never bought the wild flex of the first film that Anthony and Stanford would ever wind up together. (The less said about their over-the-top, Liza Minnelli-officiated wedding in the second film—a true jump-the-shark moment—the better.) I could buy that they, despite their mutual distaste and differences, would become friends, but it always strained credulity to have them be anything more. Which made Stanford’s departure from the show (an impossible situation given real-life events) nevertheless a bit of a bummer. Yet no character was done dirtier this season (no, not even Mr. Big) than poor Steve. Not only was he needlessly saddled with a deaf subplot, we also had to witness his baseless cuckolding with nary a reference to a major plot point of the movie: That his one-time infidelity, which he disclosed to Miranda, caused such a fissure of distrust in their relationship, we endured essentially the entire runtime of the film to see them finally reach a place of forgiveness and reuniting. #lovewins
It’s galling that the writers of And Just Like That… conveniently omit a core character trait of Miranda’s for the purpose of an illicit, extramarital love affair: That someone like Miranda, who prides herself on integrity and justice, would even do what she does to Steve without talking to him first. It strains credulity, historical record, and overall narrative coherence. Call it a continuity error, like Steve’s come-and-go deafness (literally episode to episode), it does seem awfully glaring for stalwart Sex and the City fans. (In other words, I couldn’t help but wonder: Is Michael Patrick King, who took these characters and deepened their original storylines and relationships, still the right person to evolve them moving forward?)
Now, don’t get me wrong, on balance I did enjoy And Just Like That… and noticed an improvement in quality (if not always consistently) during the course of the season. Sarah Jessica Parker, Kristin Davis and Cynthia Nixon are all fine actresses, so any quibbles are no shade on them. Will another season allow for better gelling and smoothing out of characters new and old? Does anyone else wonder how Carrie’s new podcast somehow operates like a call-in radio show? (No? Just me?)
The first season of And Just Like That… is streaming now, in its entirety, on HBO Max. There is no official word yet on a second season though ratings and statements from the team suggest that that's likely.
Reader Comments (13)
The line starts here.
There is so much wrong with this series. It's so unlike the previous series.
New York City feels like it's barely featured.
Miranda's entire character arc is confounding, frustrating, and nauseating to watch. The "Miranda" we came to enjoy (and not always love) has become the one I hated to see on screen. What's worse is that the writers pandered to Cynthia Nixon's belief that Miranda needed a "butch" love interest, even though her professor was clearly the intended target. The scene in the final episode has so much sexual tension that should have been addressed.
Charlotte has always been somewhat unwatchable and detestable. She's a sheltered, bigoted, rich white woman. She was always destined to become Bunny. In the very first episode, I joked to my friend that Charlotte should have to deal with a nonbinary child - and lo and behold- it happened. Did she handle it well? No. Did the writers handle it well? No. Let's add diversity for the sake of diversity, or let's add diversity because it makes sense.
One episode Charlotte is whining because she has no POC friends. The next she's being a brat playing tennis (where Harry's entire reason for existing is to complain that she won't apologize, only serving to mimic her new best friend's fight with her husband). And then we enter an early 2000s Tuesday night comedy with Charlotte's menstrual stain. #groan
Carrie was decently likeable. But the entire plotline of the series has been that she isn't allowed to truly be happy.
The fashions were awful. There was nothing fascinating, jaw-dropping, or even worth trying to find a cheap knockoff. They all looked like old white women trying to be old white women in overpriced, overdesigned, and ugly AF clothing.
I hope the show never comes back.
Like Old Hollywood's problems with racism (let's remember Breakfast at Tiffany's), we're better left to remember a show as a sign of its times than recreate it with all the knowledge, respect, and growth we've all had.
This was an interesting season of television. I think watching Carrie deal with being alone was mostly well done. Part of that is that SJP is an incredibly consistent actress and she managed to play the comedy (hip surgery, the bad first date) and the drama of it (the funeral, etc.) really well. And Carrie has always been a bit ridiculous, so a lot of the eye rolling moments with her felt natural.
I think the Charlotte stuff really worked, and Davis was incredibly funny. It makes sense that someone like her would struggle but try to eagerly be successful in a world where the rules, re: motherhood and inclusivity are changing for elites, would take all of the actions she took. I also think Davis' storyline were written in a such a way that you get that it's Charlotte, but one who has also grown a bit. She also had great chemistry with Nicole Ari Parker, and got to have a lot of the LOL moments. Evan Handler and all the kids were written really well too.
The Miranda stuff just didn't work. She was way too eratic. I get that some people get that way as they start to feel stuck, but the show didn't convince us that any of this was true. The only moment that felt true was when Steve told her he was never treated as enough for her, but the show didn't make that connection. Also, she's a lawyer - why would she get a masters when she could go work for a legal non-profit for human rights and justice issues (e.g. Human Rights Watch, the Brennan Center, etc.). It would have been far more fun seeing her transition to a non-profit workplace, with Nya as a colleague, having to deal with some of the ridiculous characters there and feel a bit out of step with the culture. Her storyline defied logic.
Most of all, with Miranda, I was just disappointed no one ever said "what are you doing? You've changed your career, your dumping your husband?" The show never pivoted to having Miranda interrogate herself, only others. It still feels like she's lost in a way that Carrie and Charlotte aren't.
Karen Pittman was great, and fleshed out her storyline nicely even if all the stuff with Miranda didn't work out. I thought Sarita Choudhary was amazing. Her chemistry with SJP was incredible and they felt like real friends. Nicole Ari Parker didn't get much to do on her own, but I love how the show hinted at a potentially complicated marriage between herself and her husband.
ok, I have a lot to say.
1) The movies were a mistake, period. These stories are meant for short-form. Don't tell me 'the first one was good', because this is only true when compared to the second (don't make me pull up the reviews).
2) This is NOT Sex and the City: not to sound obvious, but the quartet is not there anymore, and the magic was never going to reignite in the same way. Samantha's absence is the most strongly felt in the closure of episode 3 after Carrie goes on a Natasha rampage and needed Samantha's fuck-it no-nonsense live-in-the-moment attitude. The show creators rightly renamed and reformatted, and this is where the true struggle lies: people are expecting Sex and the City, and the show is giving Post-Sex and the City. SATC could not be made today, and if it was, it wouldn't nearly capture as much zeitgeist and for as long - the pop culture cycle today is brief and divided. AJLT is shot differently, it has a different a rhythm and cadence of its own, with enough callouts to the original to stay in context (see how Carrie's apartment looks the same, but different).
3) The main characters: sex and relationships at this later stage in life are simply more complex and not as traditionally "glamorous" in quantities needed for a true series reboot. I, for one, really appreciate seeing these characters for what they are, future iterations of what they had once been, taking in a generation's worth of changing cultures and politics and trying to deal. Lest we forget that when the original series aired, we had no smartphones or Social Media, social dynamics were different, women's issues were still forefront in ways that LGBTQ and racial issues were not (and of course they should have been, but different topic), and this was the first generation of women (and men) moving into the information age. Look around you: men and women in their 50s are indeed dealing with these issues (mid-life crisis with a queer spin? gender-fluid kids? death? deafness? backpain? As i adjust my backrest) in ways that viewers in their 20s and 30s are not, and it is utterly disingenuous to cast judgement when the whole point is the struggle.
4) The writing is uneven: while I believe the storylines have merit, the writing has been mixed at best. It's SUPPOSED to sound cringe-worthy, and the fact that half the viewers can't see it is the real problem. And if we're picking apart, the LGBTQ subplots were handled slightly better than the racial issues, but still with too many instances of the show talking AT diverse groups than truly caring for their motivations. I loved Miranda's queer exploration, and I thought Che was a kick-ass character; in fact, the Che storyline is exactly what Sex and the City would have done if it was conceived in this decade (the divisive reactions are proof-positive). In fact, if we were to diversify, I much prefer this depiction of a mid-life sexual awakening than the obvious/insulting pairing of the 2 gay characters that had nothing in common - that was, and is still, offensive. On the BIPOC characters, i would have much preferred a deeper study of 1 character (a la Che), rather than injecting 3 and trying to cover as much range; the characters feel half-baked and still there to play off the main white characters, exactly the opposite of the intent. Big's departure was the best decision: it truly gave Carrie an arc and paid off in the finale with more interesting corners to explore (with great SJP acting to boot). Chartotte's struggles are very much in character and would only make sense for her character to deal with when you recall that her achilles' heel is to accept change. And ya, Steve and Harry got a raw deal.
5) Haters get primetime: in the end, reactions to SATC were just as polarized when it first launched, with the only difference that the voice of actual critics was louder. If Twitter was alive then, we would have heard all about the shortcomings of the original series in ways that would have compromised it. I'm over it. Can't we have nice things? If you don't like it (this is not directed at the author), there's a million streaming platforms; go find your content.
Whatever your feelings about the show, the first season gave us so many water-cooler moments like this was the 90s all over again, and for that, I am grateful. And just like that, I will watch season 2.
I don't have HBO Max and I wasn't sure about seeing this as I just couldn't imagine the series w/o Kim Cattrall but wow... she did the right thing.
Reading about that character Che and what Miranda did to Steve. Honestly, I wish Carrie and Steve had an affair just to piss Miranda off and make her realize what she had and now just absolutely blew it.
I read something last night on what reboot was worst, this or Gilmore Girls as it is hard to argue on what revival was worse. I'm a fan of the latter though the last season wasn't good but the revival was even worse. I read fan-fiction that not only was much better but actually cared about those characters and brought those nuances that made them unique. They wrote a 9th season which began with Luke and Lorelai just getting married with their families present and that season ended with a new child while Rory gets a steady job and a new and more mature boyfriend.
I fell in love with the messy AJLT in its second episode. As our favorite characters are moved to tears during the photo montage of newly departed Big, one mourner turns to the woman next to her and scornfully remarks, “Am I the only one who remembers what a prick he was to her?” I howled. Yet, apparently not everyone was laughing with me.
Frankly I am not surprised that so many male television critics object to a weekly television show that explores the lives of sexually active women over the age of 50. While the beloved Golden Girls could chat about their randy exploits over cheesecake, Carrie and her coterie are not as roundly celebrated. Or at least that’s what social media would have us believe.
I don’t buy it. Viewership has been labeled by HBO Max as “strong.” I found a lovely depth in the writing. Steve and Carrie have a quiet moment while house painting for charity. Steve emphatically tells Carrie that his wedding ring “ain’t never coming off.” Carrie challenges him about the possibility of a richer life in finding another partner. Steve remains adamant, “Never comin’ off.” The next shot shows Carrie in her closet. She quietly removes her wedding ring. Her words failed to move Steve, but they did rouse something in her.
Sex and the City was never an elegant show. Often bawdy, occasionally tone deaf, the series attracted audiences who remained tied to these lives. Now years later I still am interested. The hard truth is I find AJLT enormously addictive and entertaining. I look forward to where it will take me next.
honestly, I was never interested in Sex and the City... catched one random episode by chance - one about a hot firefighter - and thought it was a horny youngers Golden Girls without the charm of that Fantastic Four ensemble, the 80s comedy had... so I passed on the whole series, movie spin-offs and will pass on this one, as well.
Should I return my gay license?
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My theory is that SJP became executive producer in season five, and the character of Carrie began shifting for the worse following that. Gone was the difficult, abrasive Carrie of the first few seasons, replaced by an extremely irritating, bland character who would never again be shown having sex or getting her hands dirty. I think this reboot suffers immensely for the direction they took her character - if you flattened her story out, we could've gotten her podcast launch by episode three. Her character beats were really reflective of creators/writers who didn't want Carrie to do ANYTHING - she floated around passively, wandering into the plastic surgeon's office, being victim to her loud downstairs neighbor, going through her vintage wardrobe, switching apartments willy nilly, the BEEPING in her new apartment (never resolved), the lamp flipping on and off. This all doesn't really add up to much, story-wise, and in her interactions with the main girls and other characters, she is comprised only of puns and bad wordplay. Even the "big fight" with Miranda in the final ep - she's so prim and perfect, afraid to really get into it and tell Miranda what she really thinks.
Now, I do think the Chris Noth scandal necessitated the creators taking a lot of content out. I am also suspicious that this "show" was really the movie stretched out over ten episodes, and the new characters filling in the gaps left by whatever the Samantha hole (ha) was. Kim Catrall supposedly didn't want to continue with this series because of the script and direction for the characters (and that Big's death made Carrie too much the central character). Totally understandable! What a big, fat, juicy pop culture "I told you so!" moment for her!
GShaq -- i agree with a lot of what you're saying. I enjoyed this series but i do recognize a lot of areas where it failed (honestly Mark is rigth about the Miranda stuff... it was all painful)... but a lot of what i didn't like in the first couple of episodes i ended up liking as they played out. For instance I looooooove Seema (but then i've always loved Sarita Choudhury) and the other new characters (minus Che) are growing on me. I even came to love Carrie's arc even though it seemed like such a weird bummer to hang a reboot that was partially for nostalgia on.
I think the show started a little off with the new character. But episode 8 9 10 it felt like Sex in the city. I also think of all the new character the realtor and Charlotte mom pal was a good fit. Miranda new story was totally off from her relationship with Brady to her new love interest. No real chemistry but I do admit when a woman hit her late 40 the early 50 and accept been unhappy it can feel a little crazy when stepping out with a new lover straight or gay. Hopefully we'll get a 2nd season to explore these characters new and old..
Horrible waste of time…gay characters were clumsily written and kind of annoying..
And the kiss at the end coming from no where was the icing on a badly made cake.
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