Sex and the City 2

The longer I’ve been reviewing film, the more I’m convinced that some movies don’t deserve the time and reflection of a write-up. Some of us withhold the price of a ticket when we want to send a message to the studios, and some of us want to withhold our words altogether and not give these productions the attention they thrive on. Michael Patrick King, who once injected a little substance and satire into his Manhattan love-letters when they ran on HBO, has added another unworthy to the pantheon of Truly Stupid Films, which includes Date Movie, Big Momma’s House, Larry the Cable Guy, and The House Bunny. But Sex and the City 2 stands out from that crowd, and not on account of its bold textiles and outrageous hats. I can’t remember the last time a Truly Stupid Film commanded so much discourse, and that’s what makes this movie interesting. Like a black hole of thought, SATC2 wafts from screen to screen surrounded by an event horizon of half-baked criticisms, the kind commentators think insightful or cutting. My Twitter feed and Facebook page are littered with them, as are the bylines on media homepages. I’ve only read three SATC2 reviews but I feel like I’ve absorbed a thousand. If you were online over the course of the last few weeks, you couldn’t miss the opinions even if you tried — opinions as pat and idiotic as the film itself.

Full review and comments below the fold.

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