Opening night – Oh, the silliness of young twenty-somethings wearing 5-inch stilettos on a weekday. You will live to regret that.
Upon seeing the movie I have to agree with this article by NPR movie critic David Edelstein.
“Sex and the City was criticized for being too white, and I’m not sure it helps to have Jennifer Hudson enlist as Carrie’s assistant, a blandly helpful ingenue who’s too close for comfort to a twentysomething Hattie McDaniel: She doesn’t clean Miz Bradshaw’s apartment, she cleans up her computer files, and oh, she admires her mistress in those get-ups.”
So true. Every single scene with Jennifer Hudson was sheer pandering. “Hi SATC viewers, we are politically correct. Yes, we are. We are. Really. We love black people. We swear.”
And the character of Hudson onscreen? “Oh look, my mistress really really does love me. She loves me for me. We are girlfriends too. She gave me a Louis Vuitton bag!” Coughs * Okay, Aunt Jemima. They sent your character packing to St. Louis.
Look, we get it okay. The original creators weren’t being overly racist per se, they were simply mimicking life the way they live it. Most lives are segregated. I don’t think they even noticed the lack of diversity until it was pointed out to them.
At this point, messing with the whole Sex in the City formula (four rich white girls getting it on in the big city), is useless. (Should they really have to integrate for the sake of appeasing critics is another question?) Putting in a minority at this point strikes a false note. The connection between the new character and the audience was too quickly established and too quickly broken. Oh well, yay diversity.
Don’t even get me started on Senor Big.
Go, watch the movie. I don’t want to spoil it. Then I elaborate at length.