Sex And The City: Exclusive Sneak Preview!

The film version of every woman's favourite programme finally arrives, after leaving us on tenterhooks with the finale a couple of years ago. As we left our feisty heroines, it was clear that things would need a film to wrap up the story, and thank Christ's arse they did. In case you've forgotten, we last saw our dickless chums worrying about the sort of awesome, in-depth relationship woes that kept every single woman, gay and confused emo-teen boy glued to their set like cats looking at mice in a cage.

Picking up directly from where the show finished, Carrie, Samantha and Charlotte are imprisoned in a Thai jail awaiting execution for smuggling Manolo knockoffs up their assholes. And on the other side of the pond, Miranda is trying to decide whether to marry Escobar the hunky gardener or continue her Sapphic experimentations with her cousin Bridget. So what will happen? Ooooh it's almost too much isn't it? Get the Maltesers and the GHD out, girls!

Well rest assured, the girls are plucked from public beheading at the last moment by Carrie's old flame, Captain Jack Sparrow, who sashays into the prison and, having been freed from Davy Jones' Locker by that bird who was in 28 Days Later, sweeps them away on the backs of sea turtles. They return to New York and convince Miranda to join them in their quest for the Crystal Skull, last seen in that warehouse in Area 51. Saved from a nuclear blast by hiding in a fridge stocked with low-fat cottage cheese and thai food, Samantha decides to discover herself by trekking in Peru and exists only on a diet of faux-crystals and pictures of dolphins. Because, like, they're really intelligent and we hurt them with our fishing methods and stuff.

Down to a threesome (oooh threesome!), Carrie, Edith and Bridget realise that the only way to feel complete as women is to get married and have kids. Which is in keeping with the ethos of the TV show that pretends to promote feisty independent women who are strong and in control yet who seem to spend each and every single fucking week complaining about men and getting all angsty about stupid shit that doesn't matter to anybody but these fictional harridans. I mean really, despite the soft-core sex which is no raunchier than a Carry On film, it treads the same tired bullshit that Bridget Jones did 10 years ago. And it comes off like the moronic blogging of a 14 year-old Goth girl on MySpace who insists you "don't judge me" and "doesn't give a fuck what you think."

Thankfully our heroines all realise that happiness is found in the arms of a strong man that provides for them, so they all chuck the posturing and faux intellectual debating of relationships in favour of being soft and fuzzy and helpless whilst the men provide security and income and chest hair. Yet the tranquillity of their suburban lives are forever broken when New York is attacked by a monster that you never see and has bits that drop off and turn into little Starship Trooper bug things. Chrissy and Bridget are chased through deserted subway tunnels by the bugs and narrowly escape when Jack Burton crashes through the ceiling and saves the day with an inept yet effective rescue wearing smudged lipstick. Lo-Pan is enraged by this and takes Miranda hostage as she has Jade eyes and is the chosen one to ensure his eternal life as Trinity is trying to convince The Train Man to take them all back to Zion.

Whilst all this is going on, back in The Machine World, Mr Big is humping the ever-loving shit out of Kate, who forgets all about her gal pals and takes Mr Toad's Wild Ride to Neverland, forgetting all about them completely. Just when all looks lost, Chigurh realises that the road that has brought him to this point means that nothing else could happen and everything has been building to here so nothing can be wrong. Friendo.

In short, Sex in The City is an awesome thrill-a-minute ride rollercoaster of excitement, danger and female bonding. But what the fuck did you expect from a bird that was in Police Academy, Matthew Broderick's wife - who's major cinematic achievement was having her head grafted onto a Chihuahua in Mars Attacks - and two other women I forgot but don't have nice boobies like Angelina Jolie.

So if you are:

(a) A Woman
(b) A Gay man
(c) A heterosexual male hoping to get lucky
(d) Gok Wan

Then it's a 4 star movie. For everybody else, save your money and play your Xbox 360. Andy