Saturday, May 31, 2008

S.A.T.C.

For those of you unfamiliar with the above acronym, it stands for Sex and the City.

Unless you've been hiding in a cave, have not seen a newspaper or have avoided any news medium whatsoever these last few weeks, you'll likely be aware the apparently long-awaited (by whom, I might ask?) eponymous movie opened this weekend,

I was never a fan of the cable TV show. I could not identify with any of the characters in any way, shape or form. I did, I admit, watch some episodes as TLATO lived her life vicariously through the antics of four shallow, loose moralled and self-centred bordering on alcoholic, collectors of ugly-to-me shoes that must be packaged with chiropractic and podiatric vouchers (hence the exorbitant prices).
Confession time; I have had a few manicures and two pedicures. There I admit it. I am not what I would consider to be "metro sexual" - way too much body hair for that.

So anyway, like I said, not a fan.

Sheryl has been eagerly awaiting the movie's opening for weeks. In fact, plans were being made days ago as to which show she and three girlfriends would venture on opening day.

Yesterday afternoon, four ladies of a certain age car pooled to Peterborough - closest town resembling civilization in these parts and eagerly presented themselves at Peterpatch's version of the Bijou. They all knew the movie was long (did I hear excessively?) and accordingly went en masse to the ladies room pre-show.

Three hours or so later, TLATO returned home. She loved the movie. "Which one of you was Samantha?" I mumbled under my breath as I prepared dinner for our dog, five cats and us - due to some of the ensuing confusion, I think Ben got my steak... Sheryl, enthusiastically effusive about the movie in general was, however, quite surprised by one thing. She had known that millions of dollars were spent on the production of this ultimate chick flick. One can only imagine the Midol bill alone. She said that there was a scene near the beginning of the show where the lower portion of a boom mic made an unwelcome appearance in frame. Odd. However, through the duration of said movie, she estimated that a boom mic was blatantly visible in at least 30% of the movie. It became an unwelcome distraction. It was as annoying as many of the above-the-line characters in the flick. She opined bravely that perhaps, a less than perfect print had been dispatched to this part of the world. Country folk will never notice. Wrong. One of the foursome estimates that the mic could easily petition the movies' producers for a piece of the action given the amount of on-screen time it enjoyed. In fact, keen observers all, they reckoned that there was at least more than one mic that made an appearance.

A body double, perhaps? Could there be a recurring role in a sequel?

Did anyone else who may have plonked down their cash for this designer-laden, product placement driven "spectacle" make similar observations?

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I never enjoyed Sex in the City, although I have watched it. I think it makes having one night stands acceptable. In reality having sex with that many men isn't safe. I love knowing that as I get older my sexuality might increase and that I might be as sexy as Kim, but at the expense of being called easy. I might be from the dark ages but I strongly believe that there is one person for everyone and its hard work. I've also wondered if those four women are just focused on careers, bonding with each other and sex. What message is Sarah Jessica Parker sending to young girls? She states there is no nudity in any of her scenes but she still wakes up in a sheet with a few different leading me and a cigarette. She is trying to say in order to be an independent woman life is so stressful you might need to smoke, drink and shop for extremely expensive needless things and fuck a tall sexy man. Thats the message the show sent to me I don't care to see this movie. Movies today are just one giant commercial selling products and morals that aren't important.

The Inspector said...

Maybe I'm still a tomboy at heart, or maybe I'm just well-adjusted in reality, but is this crap REALLY what the vast majority of women think and talk about these days??? I know far too many girls who refer to this tripe as their "Bible"... a bible for what? Shopping and sleeping around? Do they think they're actually learning relationship or life values from these 4 shallow piss-tanks? Do they really start to believe that the only way to be fulfilled in their existence is to buy the most expensive shoes and matching handbags (no, they couldn't possibly just call them purses) and then talk about their shoes and handbags while sucking back a martini?

You'll be happy to know that I read on the news ticker yesterday that Sarah Jessica Parker can't feel her feet any more because of said expensive shoes. Just desserts.

The Inspector said...

Hey, I have an actual answer for one of your queries here... the reason Sheryl could see the boom throughout the movie (I also refuse to call it a film) is because the theatre set the wrong aspect ratio for their screen. All prints of film actually include stuff that you "shouldn't" see, but it's up to the projectionist to set the proper specs... which this one didn't. My dad knows everything about movies...

OmemeeOzzie said...

Carly, I knew there was something amiss!

Grounds for a refund, if you ask me!

Thanks.