And Just Like That...

A more diverse cast, not just of stars but also, hopefully, of storylines, is a long overdue change, but the main three’s newfound social and cultural awareness is shoe-horned in to such a degree the whole endeavour feels often cloying, at times inauthentic and occasionally downright uncomfortable. And this is really something it needed to get right. ... What’s promising about the Sex and the City revival is where it has the potential to go.

AJLT is not particularly funny or horny but it’s also not striving to be. It would rather ask the larger existential questions.

A sometimes awkward, sometimes touching, and always soapy effort to usher the characters into their 50s and the IP into the era of Black Lives Matter and gender awareness.

The onslaught of “woke” teachings lends the show a smugly self-congratulatory rather than ironically self-aware air. This does nothing to make it sing like the original. ... All that said – there are reasons to hope that these are teething troubles only. There is a handful of good lines, there are flashes of the old spirit and there is one sex scene – centred round Big (“I’m getting some lube. I’m not 30”) – that recalls the genuinely pioneering original, and what fun it used to be.

Just because And Just Like That isn’t what we wanted or expected doesn’t mean it’s not good television. As shown by episode two, as Carrie and co deal with the aftermath of the life-changing event, the smart quips and on-the-nose jokes we love still work alongside darkness.

And Just Like That… addresses these issues [death, alcoholism, racism, sexual identity] with a lot more respect bringing a deserved weightiness to the matters, which are explored over the course of the 10 episodes and not resolved in under half an hour—love. The overarching cringing “wokeness” of it all—hate.

Its first four episodes (of 10) feel like two shows. One, which tries to grow with the women as they navigate their 50s and mortality, is a downer, but it takes risks and in moments is very good. The other, which tries to update its sassy turn-of-the-century sensibility for an era of diversity, is painful.

The name surely carries plenty of equity, but like the movies, this HBO Max show yields diminishing returns.

In different manners, Carrie, Charlotte, and Miranda seem not just to be stripped of their defenses but of their senses of self; the laughs, when they come, aren’t just rueful and hard-won but strained. We recognize these characters, but it’s not just someone at the table who’s missing — it’s an energy.

The two episodes premiering Thursday do not just diminish a fan favorite in absentia, but saddle Miranda and Charlotte with plenty of out-of-character moments. Despite these issues, the reboot improves greatly on our gals’ last outing, the 2010 big-screen abomination “Sex and the City 2.”

This revival may not be great – especially with our outspoken minx missing – but it’s watchable, even when it feels like a trainwreck. I can’t wholeheartedly recommend And Just Like That… to the casual viewer based on this strange mess of a pilot, but for those who still harbor a soft spot for Carrie Bradshaw and her crew, there’s something worth indulging in here.

The series has to update to 2021, or try to anyway. To that end, there are prominent Black characters here for pretty much the first time in series history — better late than never but about as awkward an attempt to redress its unbearable whiteness of being as you might imagine.

It’s easy, if weirdly unconvincing, viewing, but without the puckish humor that used to animate the original. There’s no real form or shape to the episodes, which stretch beyond the 40-minute mark.

Little about And Just Like That... feels fresh. [3 - 16 Jan 2022, p.9]

Sarah Jessica Parker (Carrie), Cynthia Nixon (Miranda) and Kristin Davis (Charlotte) gamely tried to fill the Samantha-shaped hole with lame stuff about masturbation, gender-neutral toilets and teenagers leaving used condoms on bedroom floors, but it felt as though they were going through the motions, as if their hearts weren’t really in.

A ponderous, melancholic muddle whose primary motivation seems to be making amends for sins of the past. I watched it all without stopping, occasionally hiding my head in my hands.

Lacking sharp characterisation, believability and bite, this is a too-often cringey attempt to drag the women of Sex And The City into 2021.

There are occasional flashes of the insight and humor that helped make Sex and the City such a phenomenon in its day. ... But And Just Like That … comes across as desperate to seem cool and relevant in a very different TV landscape. Watching it made me feel old, and not because I, like these ladies, have aged since the original series. Nothing about the show feels organic; so much about it is painfully forced.

The new series makes a real, if often awkward and occasionally disingenuous, attempt at modernizing Carrie and the show around her. It just doesn’t work, for the most part.