Do you have a video playback issues?
Please disable AdBlocker in your browser for our website.
Due to a high volume of active users and service overload, we had to decrease the quality of video streaming. Premium users remains with the highest video quality available. Sorry for the inconvinience it may cause. Donate to keep project running.
After moving in together in an impossibly beautiful New York apartment, Carrie Bradshaw and Mr. Big make a rather arbitrary decision to get married. The wedding itself proves to be anything but a hasty affair--the guest list quickly blooms from 75 to 200 guests, and Carrie's simple, label-less wedding gown gives way to an enormous creation that makes her look like a gigantic cream puff. An upcoming photo spread in Vogue puts the event--which will take place at the New York Public Library--squarely in the public eye. Meanwhile, Carrie's girlfriends--Samantha, the sexpot; Charlotte, the sweet naïf; and Miranda, the rigid perfectionist--could not be happier. At least, they couldn't be happier for Carrie. Charlotte still has the unrealized hope of getting pregnant. Samantha is finding a loving, committed relationship more grueling than she could have imagined. Miranda unwittingly lets her own unhappiness--created when Steve admits to cheating on her just once--spoil Carrie's. After a ...
I walked into the theatre hoping for a nice evening and came out as a hard-line Marxist, my head a whirl of closets, delusions, and blunt-clawed cattiness. All the film lacks is a subtitle: The Lying, the Bitch, and the Wardrobe.
The movie Sex and the City is a heady female fantasy -- I think. I tried to snuggle up to Sex and the City, but the attempt to snuggle for two hours and 20 minutes is in itself a fantasy. Like many typical men, I'm afraid I fell asleep.
The ladies settle into the doldrums of marriage and their antics are reduced to a detached series of scenes that involve sulking, yearning or just plain indulging.
It's just that there's been an altitude adjustment -- fewer stilettos, more flats. Ask what women want of a chick flick and one answer may be this -- a pleasant reunion with cherished friends. Ask what women deserve and the answer is better.
As amigas de Sex and the City estão entre as criaturas da ficção mais repulsivas que já conheci: fúteis, estúpidas, egoístas e entediantes. Além disso, isto não é um filme, é um catálogo.
May 26, 2010
Ebert & Roeper
Why get the band back together if you're not going to add some new songs to the greatest hits?
June 02, 2008
TIME Magazine
Learning and hugging. There's lots of that here â" woman to woman and man to woman â" which satisfies the movie's fantasy fulfillment of both amity and eros.