Radio killed the Jay-Z and Alicia Keys collabo, “Empire State Of Mind.” That much is certain. But when the anthem began to play one night, it felt like we – meaning every woman in Radio City Music Hall – hadn’t heard it in years. People snapped, swayed, threw their arms in the air and chanted along. Was this a concert? A radio station’s “throwback tune at noon”?  No. It was simply the opening track to “Sex And The City 2.” The energy in the room was so overwhelming and, after an hour delay, so was the impatience-assisted anticipation, that we really couldn’t help ourselves.

Carrie enters, sashaying through swinging double doors, of course, right on beat, in golden glittered shoes that remind us she is New York City’s modern Dorothy. Shots of the entire city glisten and sparkle. Even the opening credits are bedazzled. Emerald City, indeed.

Leave it to stylist Patricia Fields to satisfy our fashion fixation, front and center, within the first five minutes. But don’t expect to be wowed throughout the entire film by Jimmy Choos and Louboutins, as was the case with the first film. Yes, the clothes play their part (and do it well – I dare you not to laugh during the 80’s flashback!), but this movie, it becomes increasingly clear, is all about the shots, the scenery, the visuals. After all, there were screams throughout the theater when nothing but a house appeared on the big screen. Granted, it was a mansion, but you get my drift.

The writers don’t fail us either. Again, within minutes, there is heavy talk about gays, marriage and, well, cheating once the first two combine. Here is where we are reminded that Sex & The City, as much as it is about fashion and decadence, is really about relationships – failed, unhealthy, loving, and lost. (P.S. If you don’t know which two gays could possibly be getting married, you are not a true fan!)

Enter the so not stereotypical presence of Liza Minnelli, and expect your first (of at least three!) supercorny cringeworthy film moments.

Another one will look like this:

And leave it to the ladies to bring out the worst at a wedding. At this supposedly “joyous” occasion, we learn that:

Carrie and Big, on the way to their two-year anniversary, have hit a rut; after all, they’re certainly out of their “honeymoon” stage, but still have not talked kids so…now what?

Steve is still playing second fiddle to Miranda‘s Blackberry. As usual, she’s all work and no play, missing her son Brady’s school events left and right.

And Charlotte and hubby Harry’s new daughter Rose is mentioned, but doesn’t yet make an appearance – and for good reason. Apparently, she’s entered the “terrible twos.” Really terrible. So terrible that Charlotte, whose only aspiration is to be “Mommy of the Year, is too embarrassed and prideful to discuss the troubles publicly.

Samantha though finds someone to have sex with at the wedding – obviously. And we believe she comes out unscathed. But lo and behold, she gets her very own storyline. Struggling to come to terms with her age, Sam does everything in her power to avoid menopause-ridden hot flashes. Everything.

Add one trip to the (cinematic charm! beautifully-shot! planning-my-next-vacay-right-now!) land of Abu Dhabi, and you’ve got a surefire film hit on your hands. Save for a few disastrous moments, like the ladies disrespectfully donning burkas as a form of disguise (why??).

But as expected, everyone’s got issues! This is one girls trip gone wrong. Samantha can’t get horny anymore (hint: police obtain her sacred pills!), Charlotte can’t get in touch with her husband (hint: he’s at home with the hot, foreign nanny) and Carrie, whose husband is currently requesting “days off” from their marriage, runs into Aidan – the one that got away. Duh. That’s gotta mean something, right? Right?

Enjoy the film, ladies!

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