Review: Sex And The City 2

If you've seen the freaky poster for this movie, that should tell you all you need to know without having to purchase a ticket. This film is plastic, with no heart and very little brain. Fans of the TV series beware; this ill-advised sequel is a major letdown and it makes the first movie look like The Godfather in comparison.

It starts reasonably enough with the obligatory Carrie voiceover reminiscing about her days as a single gal in the Big Apple with an amusing flashback montage of the girls in the '80s. Then it's time for the OTT gay wedding of the gay best friends, complete with embarrassing cameo from Liza Minnelli (who else?), the mad old bat. So far, so fabulous. But it's all downhill from there.

We're two years into Carrie's (Sarah Jessica Parker) marriage to Big (Chris Noth) - he's become alarmingly attached to the sofa and she's starting to nag. Poor Carrie, it must be tough being rich, highly successful and married to the man of your dreams. Meanwhile, Charlotte (Kristin Davis) discovers being a mum might actually involve more than picking out cute mini outfits (don't feel sorry for her, she has a full-time nanny) and Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) still has something wedged up her ass and continues to struggle with the old work/life balance chestnut.

And then there's Samantha (Kim Cattrall), who is doing battle with the menopause and her weapon of choice is yams. Clearly what these ladies need is a holiday! Cue an improbable, all-expenses-paid trip to Abu Dhabi. Cue the most excruciating two hours you'll spend in the cinema all year.

American imperialism is alive and well, and it's wearing Jimmy Choos. Carrie On In The Middle East is not only criminally unfunny, it's patronising and borderline racist. Let's point and laugh at women in burqas as they eat French fries! That literally happens. And in the hotly contested 'most tasteless scene of the film', we actually get to find out what lurks underneath the burqas. The message is that women everywhere must surely want to be like the fab four; after all, the girls are so emancipated they've spent decades worrying about men and how they look. The suffragettes can rest in peace.

Aside from the casual xenophobia, the second thing that royally irked me about this movie is the distance that now exists between Carrie and co. and their loyal audience. I've always loved and admired Carrie Bradshaw. She may have dressed in horrifyingly expensive designer clothes, but she had to save up for weeks in order to get that dream dress and she loved it because of that. Now she practically shits designer shoes.

Her old apartment was stylish but homely, the new apartment she shares with Big looks like a Harrods show home. Carrie, once a smart, witty, fallible voice for single women, is now a smug pain in the arse. This film is a massive slap in the face for SATC fans.