Flip through the latest issue of Gulf Weekly.
This is a movie so unbelievably girly, whirly and twirly that, on leaving the cinema, I felt like reading three Andy McNabs back to back, just to get my testosterone back up to metrosexual level.
As all the world knows, it is a feature-film showcase for New York's female foursome: Carrie, the journalist (Sarah Jessica Parker), Samantha, the nympho PR (Kim Cattrall), Charlotte, the Park Avenue Princess (Kristin Davis), and Miranda, the occasionally bi-curious corporate lawyer (Cynthia Nixon). The film tells of their further adventures, which take place in the usual avalanche of Louis Vuitton bags and Manolo Blahnik shoes, one pair of which appears to have heels as long and sharp as Olympic-standard javelins.
It tells of their laughter, their tears, their breakups, their bonding, and yet again their tears. As I left the auditorium, the overwhelmingly female crowd were eagerly saying to each other things like: "I was crying for Carrie. .." "Oh no, I was crying for Samantha. .." "I was crying for Charlotte. .."
At almost two-and-a-half hours, the film is almost like watching a whole new series of the show, run together. The gals are supposed to have moved on - notionally - from when the programme ended in 2004. In the intervening four years, Carrie has become a bestselling author; Samantha lives in LA and is a personal manager to her main squeeze, hot actor Smith Jerrod, played by Jason Lewis so unexpressively he appears to have taken a hit of Botox in the frontal lobe. Charlotte is happily married to Harry (Evan Handler), with an adopted Chinese daughter, but Miranda is having problems in the nuptial bed with her down-to-earth Brooklyn spouse Steve (David Eigenberg). And the most exciting thing of all is that Carrie is about to tie the knot with Mr Big, played by Chris Noth with an intriguing, almost camp habit of sensually pursing his lips, which has always led me to suspect that Miranda isn't the only bi-curious character in the cast.
Anyway, the most mind-blowing wedding of the decade is on the cards. But wait. You don't suppose that sneaky commitmentphobe is going to mess our Carrie around, do you?
As in the TV show, Parker tops and tails each episode with her trademark rueful voiceover, mostly concluding with the words: "And, just like that. .." Before the film started, journalists were earnestly told not to reveal any of the cataclysmic plot developments: and I'm not sure whether or not this counts, but at one stage Carrie sensationally changes her hair colour, signalling a whole new emotional epoch.
