A shoe-in: the cast of Sex and the CIty. Left-right Kim Cattral, Cynthia Nixon, Sarah Jessica Parker, Kristin Davis.
On/off, on/off, on/off - rumours of a film version of the hit HBO series Sex and the City have been circulating since the New York-based sitcom ended in 2004. As they did when following the ups and downs of Carrie and Big's tumultuous relationship, fans of the series heaved huge sighs of relief when the saga looked set for an outing on the big screen, only to weep into their DVD shoe boxsets when alleged cast tension meant it was all off again. But now it appears that a Sex and the City movie is in pre-production: a script has allegedly been written, with filming due to start in New York later this year.
And I'm kind of ashamed to say that I'm pleased. Admitting to a love of watching Sex and the City is like fessing up to Bridget Jones being your role model. The TV series that follows the (sex) lives of four New York gals is trashy, consumerist and anything but feminist. Or is it? Ariel Levy, a feminist writer of some note, has argued that Sex and the City marked the first time women were allowed to be sexual aggressors on television. Arguably this was only possible because the show launched on HBO, a subscription cable channel that does not have to conform to the sexist social norms of prime-time network television, which prefers its female characters to be wives, mothers and home-makers - not footloose, fashionable and financially independent with a penchant for men who could bring them to orgasm rather than bring home the bacon.
Sure, its bourgeois bohemian narrative can be irritating at times - Carrie might work retro threads into her wardrobe but they're inevitably designer label rather than charity shop hand-me-downs. And the characters are far from realistic: Miranda seems to be the only one who works enough to earn the extraordinary amount of dollars these women spend on cocktails and clothes. But SATC espouses a new kind of brand aesthetic from your usual chick flick: that brand is New York, but it's also the (post-feminist?) empowerment of women who, while complicit in a capitalist consumer lifestyle, are also critical of it in often quite hilarious, heart-warming ways. Charlotte might ditch her career in the arts for a life of wifedom, but she pays for it with a husband who can't get it up. And Carrie constantly turns the tale of sad single woman, waiting for her knight in shining armour, on its head: she is single and fabulous.
Desperate Housewives is no substitute and takes us back to square one in feminist terms, with female stereotypes that are boringly blinkered. But can SATC's short, snappy episodes, with their neat moral messages, stretch to a two hour-long movie? I hope the film version - if it ever does happen - can make the jump without losing its voice. Will Carrie and Big get married and have babies on the big screen? Probably, but not necessarily. And if they do, it will involve a thorough questioning of the "naturalness" of this path in amusing, clever ways that, hopefully, do the four characters and their show justice.
