Somehow, somewhere I apparently agreed to go see the
Sex in the City Sex and the City movie. Of course, I am prone to not listening at home so I’m guessing my wife got me to agree shortly after I turned on the automatic “Yes, dear” reply in my head. If so, then I got what I deserved. There is nothing slightly masculine about the movie. They even managed to make Chris Noth feminine. This is more than a chick flick. It’s an all out chick assault. It’s possible I may have grown female body parts while sitting in the movie theater. I suddenly am worried about what shoes I’m going to wear to work tomorrow, and I’m actually feeling bloated. I’ve never felt bloated, or if I have, I’ve never expressed it that way before.
Here’s my review. The movie is long and interrupted by periodic sniffles from the women in the audience at what may or may not be inappropriate moments (Should you really cry when Carrie gets the closet of her dreams?) Possible side effects if you’re a man could be questioning your own sexuality and deep feelings of regret for wearing a black belt with brown shoes when that kind of thing never mattered before.
If you have a Y chromosome and are not attracted to people with Y chromosomes, don’t see this movie. If you are one of the Y chromosome types who’s married, start listening to your wife now so she can’t trick you into seeing this movie. Pray for me!
Next week we’re seeing Batman!