There's Nothing Women Can Do To Change The Fact That Most Self-Respecting Men Will Not See This Movie Unless Paid Handsomely

Don't go see Sex & the City. Just look at the image above (by David Hughes, from the New Yorker review by Anthony Lane) and then read these passages from Lane's review:

You cannot simply shift a load of television actors onto a movie screen and expect them to command its greater expanse.

Faced with the flimsiest of concepts, [Michael Patrick King] had to take it by both ends and pull until he stretched it out to two and a quarter hours.

There are four of them—banded together, like hormonal hobbits, and all obsessed with a ring.

On TV, “Sex and the City” was never as insulting as “Desperate Housewives,” which strikes me as catastrophically retrograde, but, almost sixty years after “All About Eve,” which also featured four major female roles, there is a deep sadness in the sight of Carrie and friends defining themselves not as Bette Davis, Anne Baxter, Celeste Holm, and Thelma Ritter did—by their talents, their hats, and the swordplay of their wits—but purely by their ability to snare and keep a man.

And finally, the shocking conclusion:

All the film lacks is a subtitle: “The Lying, the Bitch, and the Wardrobe.”

Ah, yes. That hits the spot.