Again, late in the day, with a zeitgeisty flick assessment. Though I watched the series as a dose of weekly fluff, I was kinda hating it toward the end because they made Carrie such an abhorrent character. Flawed heroines are fine, but a vapid, thoughtless thirty-something woman who has shown no sign of growth over six years isn't worth my time, especially not 2 1/2 hours (?!) and $10. So I skipped the theater-going for this one. But my mom sent me her DVD of it, so why not veg out and see how the girls fuck up their lives this time?
The WTF...
- So materialism is what wrecked Carrie and Big's first go at marriage, yet the film is laced with product placement, including quite possibly the ugliest purse anyone has ever seen. And in the end, what gets her back to Big is the need to retrieve a pair of outrageously priced shoes (Blahniks, natch). *sigh* Okay. Fine.
- Well, I always wear a long string of pearls to bed. I mean, I may choke to death in my sleep, but at least I'll look like a classy Twenties flapper doing it.
- Who wears a silk dress to pack up a whole apartment?
- ZOMG CARRIE TOOK THE SUBWAY. LOOK AT THE DEPTHS BIG SENT HER TO. BASTARD!!!!!!!! In the commentary, Michael Patrick King says she 'risk'ed going into subway on New Year's Eve to tend to her hurting friend who lived all the way down in the LES! Risking taking the same mass transportation that 90% of New Yorkers take! I hope she had hand sanitizer!! Do you think you she had to stand all the way from 73rd? The HORROR!!!
- Just when Carrie if finally taking responsibility for her asshole self, Miranda tells her that she happened to unload on Big at the rehearsal dinner and told him not to get married, and now it's all Miranda's fault. Really? She's 40 now? GROW THE FUCK UP.
- Charlotte's storyline: she shits her pants and has a baby. That's...it.
- Miranda's ginormous earrings. Did Cynthia Nixon get hazard pay for wearing those?
- SJP's brunette wig: she needs to go back to her natural hair color. She looked stunning and sophisticated and like a grown-up with the brown. The dirty blond thing does her no favors; it washes her out and makes her look haggard.
- Eating ramen while watching Meet Me in St. Louis? See, that? I do.
- Jennifer Hudson is absolutely gorgeous. Is anyone's skin really that smooth? Good god.
- Charlotte holding Carrie and yelling at Big to back off in the immediate aftermath of the jilting. So mama-lioness fierce, so nakedly angry and without any comedy. It's a rawness you never see from the character and Kristin was awesome.
- Sam breaking up with Smith in honest and caring fashion. There were no puns, no recriminations, no merkins. I relish the few moments this character gets some dignity.
- Carrie's redo of her apartment post-breakup. The shoes and clothes are ridiculous* but I'm all about decorating porn and I adored the color of her walls.
- Okay, the vintage dress suit that Carrie actually gets married was simple and gorgeous.
All Songs Considered Takes on the '80s
Oh, the snobs. I mean, I listen to Bob Boilen's podcasts and like his selections and overall joy for music. But this show seemed like a chance for him to be a dick.
He and his guest critics start off with the obvious: hair metal, what Carrie Brownstein hilariously calls Butt Rock. Easy target, not underserving. And then they laugh derisively at "Let's Hear It For the Boy" by Deniece Williams. Yes, it's all synths and drum machines and just a big pile of pink cotton candy. So? It's a pop song. I don't need all my music to be works of staggering genius. Sometimes skipping around in glittery purple legwarmers is what's required. So sayeth Brownstein: "I allow myself the pleasure to dance to 'Hear it for the Boy'" - as we all should, thank you.
Next easy target? Don Johnson's "Heartbeat." Because actors would never deign to create crappy vanity pop albums these days. Or in the sixties. Or seventies.
Then they put Hall & Oates on trial. Yes, it's cheesy, but it's such good cheese, like a gooey brie. Like the quality pop that it is. Utterly enjoyable. And dammnit, Daryl Hall is a fine singer. *She says, muttering angrily and rocking back and forth with a copy of "Sarah Smiles" clutched to her chest*
Another discussion examined a topic gleened from the the film High Fidelity: formerly great musicians who go to shit in the eighties. The film's example was Stevie Wonder. Okay. But the ASC folks decide to put Springsteen on that list. Come now. The River, Nebraska, Born in the USA, Tunnel of Love? Sure there were synths on some of these records - it was the eighties, after all - but these are good records with quality songs. These dudes want every album to be The Ghost of Tom Joad, and I think both me and Bruce would slit our wrists if that were the case. Surprisingly, they didn't bring up Heart, who I believe fits this this pattern to a tee.
Inevitably they get to the indie(ish) stuff - Replacements, REM, Tracy Chapman - full of earnestness and guitars and bass, and I totally agree. These are great artists who did great work. It proves that the eighties was not a lost decade musically. But in this discussion about earnestness, one of the critics (apologies, I forget who - Robin Hilton?) intriguingly brings up Guns 'n' Roses and their "authentic bigness." Unlike the Crue and other LA hair bands, GnR were gritty and complex musically and lyrically. Izzy and Slash were fierce and Axl made you want to check his backyard for freshly dug graves when he sang "Used to Love Her." They were serious about their RAWK. And make no mistake, GnR were RAWK. Hilton (?) puts on "Paradise City" and everyone but Boilen is creaming their jeans cuz of the massive opening riffs, dying to get up and mosh. Bob is audibly cringing. He thinks it's stupid. No, Bob. It's rough and rude, but not stupid.
Cringe number two comes when Robin (for sure, this time) plays "Head Over Heels" by Tears For Fears. YES. They point out the lame synth solo in the middle but love it regardless, cuz it's just a great pop song about unrequited love. They also note its awesomely cheezetastic video. And what's hilarious, is that Boilen has (numerous times) stated that he is an 'electronic' musician which means he's spent plenty of time noodling on the synths he's complaining about. Guh?
This may be mean but I always picture Boilen's music sounding something like this:
Finally, Bob cleanses his aural palate with 'This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)" and some Minor Threat. Again, can't argue with those, but someone needs to take the stick out of their ass and just enjoy the fluff. There's a little bit of Footloose in all of us. Embrace it, Bob.
The end of the podcast includes random snippets of the critics mentioning all the music they didn't get a chance to cover, including Carrie's indie Kiwi list (with Robin namechecking Crowded House, thanks), John Hughes soundtracks, and the influence of the video, including the best video of all time, hands down:
The most glaring omission of the glaring omissions? Rap. Seriously, no rap was mentioned at all, save for the Beasties "Fight For Your Right" at the very, very beginning of the show. And they didn't even talk about it; it was just the music cue. Hell I was a white girl in the midwest burbs but, via MTV, I was still exposed to the biggies, good and bad: Public Enemy, NWA, Fresh Prince, Salt 'n Peppa...and holy crap the RunDMC/Aerosmith combo? That was huuuuuuge!
Whatevs - I'm just gonna turn up my Go Gos and Bangles records and drown out the pretension...
