Ta-da! The first show of the new season of HBO's Sex and the City will air tomorrow, Sunday, June 3, at 9 p.m. A second half-hour episode will follow.
This show probably has almost as large a fan following as The Sopranos. It follows the adventures and misadventures of Carrie (the lead), Samantha, Miranda, and Charlotte, four career women in their 30's (or in the case of Samantha, maybe 40's?) as they struggle to find meaning in their lives, loves, and work in a lively but often harsh New York City. The writing is very funny, the acting superb, the different characters of the principals well delineated.
The show probably has a fanbase almost as large as The Sopranos. Like The Sopranos, because the show is only available on cable, the plots and writing are unhampered by the content constraints of broadcast television. The four women smoke and drink on screen, a lot. They have sex, on screen, a lot. (Who can forget Samantha on the swing?) They say 'fuck'. A lot. In fact, almost constantly. There is occasional breast or butt nudity. The show is not porn, but if it were a theatrical film, it would be R-rated.
My only real complaint about the show is that it is entirely focused on the lives, thoughts, and feelings of the four female principals. Their men tend to be, as they say, 'objectified'. They may be boy-toys, or Peter Pans who refuse to grow up, or sexually neurotic bishounen, or soulless exploiters, or septuagenarians with bad asses. We get no insight into their inner lives or struggles, as we do with the women. We know them only through the four women's viewpoint on them.
But that's okay. The show is so good that it's easy to ignore that. It's all about the women, anyway. Sex and the City is a superb contemporary comedy of manners. If you haven't seen it, please give it a try.
Miranda, on walking past a hot-tub on the grounds of the Playboy mansion, full of naked starlets half her age (and half her IQ): "Look! Tit soup!"
I love Miranda!