Dearest Reader,
HBO Max’s Sex and the City reboot And Just Like That… (2021-2025) is coming to an end after three seasons. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I am also a grandmothered-in fan of the franchise. I think I may have watched the first episode in 1998 on HBO. I was a high school sophomore and already a sophisticated TV and film viewer by that age. I loved going to the movies by myself and being enthralled by some artists’ vision on the big screen. However, top-tier television was on the rise by the late 1990s and who would have guessed a series launched in 1998 would still be making a splash in 2025.
In the 1990s, at home, network television was almost sacred, with long seasons filled with familiar casts of characters. Cable was where you got more original, niche entertainment, ‘home movies’ and television shows—plus all the naughty stuff. When movies retired from a theatrical run, they would go to cable before getting on network television years later. There was so much less quantity of entertainment, but it still felt exciting as a viewer even if you had to search a little for something good to watch at the local video store. Diversity, as always it seems, was definitely lacking in what was made overall, objectively worse than today. Many claim that AMC’s Mad Men (2007-2015) was the advent of ‘prestige television,’ and yet easily one of the greatest television shows in history was on cable TV’s HBO by 1999—The Sopranos. And Sex and the City (SITC) was part of that wave of must watch cable television, long before Don Draper started hypnotizing us with booze, smoke and high stakes advertising.
The original series, SITC, behind And Just Like That… was really special. It felt fresh, fun, naughty and daring in the space it gave women to play on screen. I think SITC owes its success in large part to the rapport between the four women characters and close friends at its center—Carrie played by Sarah Jessica Parker, Samantha played by Kim Cattrall, Miranda played by Cynthia Nixon and Charlotte played by Kristin Davis. The show’s premise was tantalizing: a sex-curious columnist and her group of high achieving girlfriends navigate their womanhood, sisterhood, dating, sex and relationships one hook-up or break-up at a time. I mean, it was so successful HBO keeps remaking it in dynamic forms with Girls (2012-2017) and Insecure (2016-2021). And eventually in December 2021 as we spiraled further down the rabbit hole of the Covid-19 pandemic, like a warm blanket, Carrie and her girlfriends were back. We’ve been main-lining gooey old feelings through reboots or remakes ever since. However, judging from my experience watching The Fantastic Four: First Steps in theaters the other day, a reboot of a reboot, I think we need to put away the warm blanket.
I watched the first two seasons of And Just Like That… and I quite enjoyed it—mostly. But I didn’t have any expectations. I was curious why they decided to reboot something that ended on a pretty high note and arguably was kind of drying out after their six seasons on HBO and two feature films in 2008 and 2010, respectively. By the 2010 sequel Sex and the City 2, the box office was trending downward on the franchise, though the film was profitable. Apparently they were scrambling for a Sex and the City movie trilogy and Kim Cattral said no thanks. A 2018 article from Gay Times notes the unmade feature length script had the same plot point (SPOILER ALERT!) as season one of And Just Like That… with the death of Mr. Big, Carrie’s longtime love interest, as well as a non-starter for Cattrall that included a farcical arc about sexting with Miranda’s teenage son, as detailed by W Magazine in 2018.
I suspect the declining franchise, a whiff of disrespect in the writing and a desire for new experiences after playing the same character for over a decade, is part of why Kim Cattrall was as puzzled as I was when And Just Like That… was set to premier on streamer HBO Max. In fact, as I recall Samantha (and everyone really) became more and more a caricature of herself by the second movie—the films were opulent and the writing was over the top camp, at least for me. Cattrall has said little directly about the series, other than she wants to move on and that there were some tensions with Sarah Jessica Parker that she discussed in a 2017 BBC interview with Piers Morgan. In response to why she’s not an active part of the reboot, in a 2022 Variety article quoted by E! News, Cattrall comments:
[The] Samantha that exists in And Just Like That... "feels different than the Samantha that I played," making it impossible to imagine her ever reprising the role, even if fans want to see more of her. "I've come to the conclusion," she said, "that really the greatest compliment I could have as an actor is to be missed."
Cattrall’s noticeable absence from the sophomore series aside from a brief cameo in season two, is a sign for me that the SITC ship has sailed. I have not watched any of season three, the final season on air now, and I’m not one hundred percent sure I completed season two. I’ll definitely get to it eventually. However, with that said, I appreciate the comforting return of old characters, if you love camp you’ll get camp, the exploration of aging alongside sexuality and the new, more diverse cast members—SITC was very very very white for New York City.
For me, since the original series wrapped in the early aughts, I don’t think the franchise has surpassed the original six seasons. Honestly, by the end of season six, I felt rather alienated from the girlfriends, maybe except for Samantha (Cattrall) because her character didn’t pretend. We have actor Kim Cattrall to thank for her bold authenticity in embodying that character from a book by Candance Bushnell then written for television by creator Darren Star and later head writer/executive producer Michael Patrick King. Cattrall’s performance was so sexy, powerful, and confrontational that she achieved something very rare in film or television: true blue greatness. What Kim Cattrall did was deliver a character who could easily have been shamed for her sexuality and bravado, if not for the grounded and witty performance Cattrall delivered time and again. Samantha Jones is irreplaceable and unforgettable.
When I watch And Just Like That…, as much as I respect Sarah Jessica Parker for leading this cast, producing and executive producing the show, Kim Cattrall was the soul of SITC and her empty chair cannot be filled. In many ways old and new characters in the latest series are pieces in a SITC museum, I feel less depth of connection compared to the original series that became distorted over time. I mean, And Just Like That… is not unwatchable or awful, I suppose I just keep ending up where I started asking, “why is this happening?” In many ways, And Just Like That… makes me think of the wandering nature of feminism today.
Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte sans Samantha are aging, more or less wealthy white women or at least that is what their SITC franchise represents, certainly at first blush. The women of color in their new crew on And Just Like That… are welcome characters, but kind of shoehorned in precisely because they are rich snobs like the other rich white women on the show. No shade! To brilliant actors like Nicole Ari Parker, Sarita Choudhury and Sara Ramirez. Indeed, most of what I remember from the movies are how many fashion brands and product placements there were. The deep, human relationship between characters got gobbled up by the brand of SITC.
And Just Like That… though replete with talented actors, interesting adult storylines, amazing sets and costumes, it feels like a business decision rather than a creative one. And modern feminism kind of feels like a movement gobbled up by a brand; so much so that we still have “girl power” t-shirts for purchase with no federal reproductive rights to speak of. As always, I’m grateful a solid production was made and people were able to earn a living for a few years…but Kim Cattrall was right.
With Love During End Times,
Agunda
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