Mikkel Marius Winther is interested in the way the Internet is changing the way we communicate and the consequences it has on society and everyday life. He loves Twitter, Red Bull and writing about himself in the third person.
I’m never going to see Sex and the City 2. I didn’t see the first one and I didn’t watch the tv show. I’m glad the sequel exists, though, as the reviews have been much more fun to read than I’m guessing watching the movie will ever be. Observe:
When viewed as a rom-com, Sex and the City 2 is terrible and crappy and a horrific inversion of everything the show once was. But when viewed as a science fiction film, SATC2 is subversive, stylish and chilling. Like The Island from Lost, we may never know The City’s true identity — Is it a VR computer program? A malevolent interdimensional god? Satan? — but we do know the following:
1.) The City can control time.
2.) The City can control their personalities.
3.) Nothing exists outside of The City.
4.) The City keeps tabs on Carrie via shoes.
—Why Sex and the City 2 is a science fiction movie.
I’m not asking for much. I just don’t want to be sick in my mouth. I don’t want to leave the cinema feeling like I’ve paid £7.50 to be mocked, patronised and kicked in the face. I don’t want to be filled with despair at Hollywood’s increasing inability to conceive of women in comedic films as anything other than self-obsessed babies with breasts.
—The death of Sex and the City.
SATC2 takes everything that I hold dear as a woman and as a human—working hard, contributing to society, not being an entitled cunt like it’s my job—and rapes it to death with a stiletto that costs more than my car. It is 146 minutes long, which means that I entered the theater in the bloom of youth and emerged with a family of field mice living in my long, white mustache. This is an entirely inappropriate length for what is essentially a home video of gay men playing with giant Barbie dolls.
