Life & Culture

And Just Like That review: Faffing over fashion is not worth one star

They took all the criticisms of the first series of this new incarnation of Sex and the City, and doubled down. Stand by for a bloated hour of asinine emptiness


Episode 03

And Just Like That
Sky Comedy | ✩✩✩✩✩

The most depressing thing I’ve ever seen in the world of entertainment was Hollywood legend Tony Curtis being pushed around a London sci-fi convention I was covering.

Clearly bewildered and out of it, he was later wheeled onstage, his audience a smattering of people, in what had been a packed hall for the previous session. Do I really need to work that hard to draw the parallels with the release of the second series of And Just Like That…

I’m still not clear why the title was changed from the iconic Sex & the City. Legal reasons, so no one could sue for being duped into thinking this was still a comedy? It’s a brave choice to broadcast on Sky Comedy then.

Or was it changed to provide more aplomb? So you’d know instead of the breakneck 22-minute blasts of pithy wit and insight, you’re getting a bloated hour of asinine emptiness?

Here’s an example of dramatic stakes and dilemma from the opening episode: what’s Carrie going to wear to the Met Ball??!!!!

Perhaps it’s to signify an expanded cast? Added to the three principals still talking to each other are a whole slew of regulars. Yet instead of fussy, or promiscuous, or scatty, or uptight, it seems the primary characteristic our newbies all share, is that they’re not white.

Or is it that the scope is larger than just one city, the city, New York City? There is a bit of action in LA, where Miranda now resides in a lesbian relationship. Actually, I’m not sure if that’s technically true if your partner is they/them.

But as indicated by the constant faffing about said Met Ball, this is still very much New York-centric.

Although it’s a ever-dwindling space, shrinking to encompass only the privileged Upper West Side.

By series three I imagine the action will only take place in Woody Allen’s apartment. Ah, it must be the sex then?

Everyone’s in their late fifties, time to take a breather, put the kettle on and enjoy a good hard book. No no no, I mean, YES! YES! YES!!! The opening montage for this series is of (nearly) everybody getting it on. Flashes of nudity and all.

And why not eh? How wonderful to see that you can still be attractive and attracted in the embers of middle-age.

Except the artifice is so great, the lighting, hair dye, positioning, and fillers ramped up to such impossible extremes, there’s a sense that the most dirty, filthy, shocking thing you might see, is the passage of time.

No And Just Like That… review would be complete without the obligatory mention of the copious plastic surgery and its impact on the acting.

For Charlotte to now register shock, a winch has to be bought in to shift facial muscles.

I’m not only amazed it’s back, I’m amazed they took all the criticisms of the first series, and doubled down. Last time I awarded one star, because of the bat mitzvah sub-plot.

They could set this season at the Kotel, it’s still getting a zero.

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