I know. Fuck me, right?

Some history: when you have a huge crush on someone, and she’s got this show she really wants you to watch on her couch, you don’t say no. So goes my experience with Sex and the City.

I’ve seen most of the series. Two-thirds, at least. I’d miss a few episodes, get the quick recap — “Oh, she got pregnant. And then had the baby.” or “Ron Livingston is her boyfriend?” — and be prepared to join the pun-filled mania. As far as the series goes, it’s a total love-hate relationship. I will just as often yell “Fuck you!” at the screen when they do something stupid or indulge in cute wordplay as I will cry or laugh. Mostly it’s just nods of approval tagged with a smile. “Alright, that joke didn’t suck.” The show eventually developed into something pretty strong and watchable, with the occasional suicide-inducing zinger thrown in.

After an entire weekend of sold-out shows, we (me and the lovely lady I had a crush on those years ago) finally got to see it on Sunday. The movie is in a difficult position with critics (and men) because it really is just a continuation of the series. It’s not going to stand alone. You need that history. It tries to play catch up and clue everyone in, but really it would not work on its own. It’s a flaw embedded into the movie, and that’s how it goes.

The movie is basically Season 6 Part III. It’s just as long as another half-season and plays like one. The story encompasses about a year when it’s over. Carrie’s storyline is fucking huge and over-the-top, but them’s the stakes with Big. Miranda surprisingly doesn’t get nearly as much sympathy for what happens to her (not trying to give anything away here). Charlotte has her usual uber white fantasy tale, and Samantha leads the pack with a narrative about coming to terms with who you are and giving up what you love to be fulfilled. For being the most shallow character, she has the deepest realization to make.

Every mother fucker out there bitches about the length of this movie. Well, I actually thought it was too short. By the time the ending comes around, they’re rushing through tying up all these storylines that we’ve invested 2+ hours in. If I’m going to sit through five goddamned fashion montages, I want my endings fully realized. It could have been at least ten minutes longer. However…

Academy Award winner Jennifer Hudson should’ve been dropped altogether (by the way, ‘academy’ so does not look like a word right now…aca-demy, weird). Completely worthless, and in fact Carrie would’ve been a much stronger person if she had taken care of the whole mess and handled it herself. It would’ve been much more interesting to see her overcome what happens on her own, but instead we get a bunch of puns about Louise from St. Louis. Great.

Speaking of useless assistants, let’s get to Iron Man, the movie critics love to love because it doesn’t suck.

I went with my friend Julian, and we didn’t hate it while we were watching it. I laughed a few times. It was visually stunning to watch. But as he put it, “Oh good, a Marvel movie where the hero goes up against some sort of bizarro version of himself.” We quickly realized that we were actually really bored by the whole thing. I mean, how long can we sit there and watch this asshole build a suit??

I have no idea why critics are blowing their load over this movie. The dialogue? It sounds like the snappy sort of dialogue from his other films of late, like Kiss Kiss Bang Bang or even Zodiac. It’s almost like the role was written with Downey’s previous roles in mind, therefore bringing nothing new to the table!

Tony Stark seems to value human life but has no problems battling a Big Lebowski on a busy highway. By the way, why would they stage yet another fight on a busy highway?? It’s been done countless times, why couldn’t they think of anything more creative than slamming cars around?!

And what is the story of this movie anyway? He just builds the suit and then gets into a fight. There is nothing cerebral at all going on here. The most insulting part is that they are trying to act like there is a story, when there isn’t.  A movie like 300 has no story and knows it. And that is perfectly fine.

And Gwyneth Paltrow provides one of the stupidest Moneypenny characters ever. For being one of the two females in the film (one Stark fucks and tosses), it’s not exactly a step forward for womankind. She provides coy sexual tension for Stark and fucking literally prances around in high heels, even when an electrical explosion of lightning bolts are heading right toward her. Helpless isn’t even descriptive enough.

I did really like Jeff Bridges, though.

That’s really the beginning of a rather huge summer full of supposedly awesome movies. I’m still rather excited, although I skipped Speed Racer because of the awful reviews, and I’ve yet to see Indiana Jones. Not hearing good things about that either.

I just can’t wait for The Dark Knight and Pineapple Express.