With the first Sex And The City movie grossing more than US$400 million, a sequel was always inevitable.

The question was, with little left to resolve in the lives of Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte, could writer-director Michael Patrick King come up with anything decent for the foursome to do? The answer, sadly, is no.

A contrived storyline
sees the friends head off to Abu Dhabi to escape their problems.

Carrie (Parker) feels unfulfilled in her marriage, Samantha (Cattrall) is growing old disgracefully, Miranda (Nixon) is trying to balance motherhood with her career while Charlotte (Davis) is worried Harry is cheating.

There’s not enough plot here to stretch over an hour, let alone 146 minutes, and King pads the film out with excruciatingly bad scenes
– the ladies tackling the
desert on camels, a dash through a souk, a singalong
in a karaoke bar – which reek
of desperation.

The funny
lines (“The Lawrence of my labia”) and good acting only reminds one that Sex And The City used to be consistently smart, sexy and witty. Not
any more.

GOOD FOR:Hen nights



Review: Pierre De Villiers