The Doc and I went to see Sex And The City last night. A very strange experience it was too. Annoying teenagers noisily chatting and texting each other are generally considered the bane of civilised cinema-goers the world over, but they are nothing compared to what we had to contend with.
Out of about 150 people, I was possibly the only guy in a sea of women. That, in itself, I can cope with (I survived a Mark Owen gig a few years ago). What I couldn’t cope with is that all these women had turned up in mobs, with alcohol, and felt the need to talk all the way through the film - predicting every single plot point and critiquing the many many ridiculous clothes. On top of this, some had even brought cameras to record the momentous occasion.
Oh, and one delightful lady thought it was appropriate to loudly comment on Charlotte’s “chinky” adopted daughter. Nice.
Anyway, the film itself was okay. I can’t really comment on the blatant shallowness of it all, as I was distracted by equally trivial things like the god-awful jacket designs of Carrie’s books and website. With all the attention on fashion designers, couldn’t they pay a little attention to graphic design? And what exactly is the point of that website? It gets mentioned several times, but it doesn’t seem to serve any purpose.
And, given that it was one continuous stream of product placements, I quite liked the bit where Carrie refuses to use an iPhone because she has no idea how to use it. I’m sure Apple don’t mind though - they’ve had ten years of Carrie typing away on a PowerBook (you know – the annoying one that, when open, had the Apple logo on it upside down), and her new MacBook gets lots of attention in the film.
This summer looks pretty good for films - pre-SATC we sat in the bar and made a list of all the good stuff coming up over the next couple of months and it’s a good varied bunch. I’m even excited about M Knight Shyamalan and Paul WS Anderson’s new films. Tomorrow it’s the big green guy. Fingers crossed it’s as good as Iron Man…