It’s been four months, but I’m still ranting about the monstrosity that was “Sex and the City 2.” Who knew it was possible for Carrie Bradshaw to become any more vile and self-absorbed than she already was? I didn’t anticipate that I would come to loathe Samantha for behaving like a fanny pack-less ugly American or that I would actually sincerely walk out of the theater thinking, Miranda is the only one of those hens that I don’t want to tar, feather, and then deep fry. Never mind the fact that I actively rooted for Big to drop Carrie like a hot potato, I didn’t even feel a tingle in my nether regions when Aidan appeared on screen. This was “Sex and the City” — where was the sex?! Where was the city?! I hated every second I spent in the theater torturing my eyes with that hot mess of a motion picture.
Still, despite all of these complaints and Chris Noth’s passing-the-buck claim that fan and critical reaction has killed any chance of a third film, I can think of five very good reasons to make “Sex and the City 3.” Keep reading »