Welcome to ‘Showtime with Emily Maddick’, in which GLAMOUR'S Assistant Editor and Entertainment Director brings a unique perspective to the month's most hyped film or TV show. For May’s instalment, Emily takes on the new season of And Just Like That, the Sex and the City follow up, now in it's third season on Sky and NOW. As a one time mega stan of SATC, Emily argues that AJLT is not a patch on the cultural significance and razor sharp writing of its origin story. It's confusing, contains sexism, sex-shaming, bi-shaming, a poor script, poor plotlines and even poorer outfit choices.
And Just Like That spoilers incoming.
In the second episode of the new season 3 of And Just Like That, over lunch, Miranda finds herself confessing to Carrie and Charlotte that she's become obsessed with a new reality TV show. “It’s so awful,” she says. “I literally scream at the TV,” adding, “I’ve finally discovered the joy in hate-watching.”
I wish my viewing experience of And Just Like That was as simple as that. Yes, I think it's awful! Yes, I scream at the TV! And yes, I hate-watch it! But do I find joy in said hate-watching? Absolutely not. Instead, I find how the show has destroyed the legacy of Sex and the City too upsetting and too depressing to even enjoy revelling in it or ridiculing it.
I, like so many women of my age, have a deeply personal relationship with Sex and the City. When it was first on TV in the early noughties, I was at University in London with dreams of becoming a journalist – Carrie Bradshaw’s life is what I aspired to. Then, when I was single in my mid twenties and thirties, carving a career as a writer in the capital and dating unsuitable men, Carrie was my oracle.
I would fall asleep to her sing-songy musings on love, sex and relationships every single night. (I am aware this was not necessarily healthy.) And like Carrie, my female friendships and gay friends were the most treasured relationships in my life. The show's groundbreaking representation of women pursuing careers over marriage, owning their own pleasure and breaking free from traditional gender stereotypes was revolutionary, and unlike anything that had ever come before. It was witty, sharp, boundary-breaking, heartbreaking, beautiful and cool.
Indeed, one of my proudest accolades of my career (ahem) was being named the “official” Sex and the City correspondent for Grazia magazine, where I worked for over a decade when the show was still very much in the zeitgeist and regarded as trailblazing feminist television (which it was). This totally tongue-in-cheek title was bestowed on me due to my passionate, encyclopaedic knowledge, and the fact that I was only one of two journalists in the UK to gatecrash the afterparty for the first film’s premiere in 2008. That’s when I saw first hand the sad realities of Sarah Jessica Parker and Kim Cattrall's rumoured feud – there were two separate VIP areas, one for SJP and one for Kim and the pair shockingly didn’t speak to each other the entire night, with most of the other cast members siding firmly with SJP. Trust me, that was major front page news at the time. I have also met and interviewed many of the original cast members and Mario Cantone, who plays Anthony Marantino, was as much of a hoot in real life as he is on the show.
“It's complicated with Aidan, but I'm trying to figure it out”. Ominous?
I know I am not alone in my opinion that And Just Like That is a travesty. Many column inches have been devoted to the show’s shortcomings since it first aired in December 2021. I contributed to those column inches when I reviewed the first 2 episodes of season 1 for GLAMOUR, writing at the time: “It seems like a pastiche; like the creators have taken three women from the late ‘90s / early ‘00s and plonked them in today’s world without them actually absorbing the past 20 years.”
Back then, the early episodes of AJLT were too self-consciously aware of not only attempting to right past wrongs from SATC in terms of diversity and representation, but also, like Miranda in those early episodes, trying painfully hard to show how ‘down with the times’ they were in 2021. It was, as Deadline described it at the time, “awkward, uncomfortable and trying too hard.” However, as the show progressed into season 2, that aspect seemed to calm down and AJLT found its groove and with it, its own fanbase. The trick, as many friends have tried to convince me, is to see AJLT as a totally separate show from SATC. “You just have to separate it from the original show, realise it’s way shitter and then enjoy it for what it is now,” I remember one earnest mega SATC stan telling me. But the thing is, I can’t. I want to love AJLT, I want to be able to laugh at its ridiculousness and see it as camp and fun and frivolous, but there’s just too much glaringly wrong with it; too much at stake. And the new season 3, of which I’ve seen the first three episodes, is, in my opinion, no better.
Gen-Z are experiencing the millennial-adored show for the first time. And boy, do they have *thoughts*.
So here, in no particular order is a list of my beef with AJLT.
1.) The casual sexism that remains unchecked. Husbands Herbert and Harry come out with such crappy casual sexism that, while it may actually exist in real life in the Upper East Side, doesn’t need to be given airtime on HBO Max and what's more, treated as if it's normal. Yes, Lisa claps back with sass, Charlotte claps back with reclaiming her career (and getting drunk) but why give such outdated views the airtime in the first place? Lisa can perfectly well be an incredible documentary-maker without us having to see her dealing with crap like ‘you’re working too hard, why don’t you just cancel your meeting and let me write you a cheque’ from her husband. The gender stereotyping is not progressive. (Side note, Harry was never casually sexist in SATC.)
2.) The continued reductive approach to gay men. Anthony saddled with lines such as, “I’m so excited, the Met Ball! God, I love balls.” All the while still plugging away at his equally reductive ‘Hot Fellas’ bakery, a business that is based purely on objectifying young men. Which seems jarring and confused, given how painstakingly conscious the writers are to handle Miranda’s sexuality and Che’s non-binary storylines with sensitivity.
3.) And thank god, Che Diaz is not in season 3 because for a stand up comic, they are not funny. The Comedy Store in LA would never accept this joke: “Everyone is so lazy in LA - last night I took an uber from my bathroom to my bedroom.” Their public savaging of Miranda after they broke up at the end of season 2, was equally unfunny and cruel. Which leads me to Carrie…
4.) Carrie is more problematic, arrogant and selfish as a friend than she ever was in SATC. Case in point, Che’s savaging of Miranda at their comedy gig at the end of season 2. When Miranda walks out hurt and mortified, Carrie does not follow her friend who has just been publicly shamed by her ex. Nope she sits looking awkward with Aidan and leaves Miranda on her own. She also demands Miranda goes to her last supper dinner party and does not listen to her friend's reasonable protests about not wanting to see her ex, Che there.
5.) Carrie is also more of a prude than she ever was in SATC. And for a former sex columnist, she is not sex positive. In SATC, yes, she was always more conservative compared to Samantha, but she was always open-minded. Refusing point blank to talk about vaginal dryness, pegging and polyamory to the point of getting her podcast shut down is ridiculous, shaming and also sends out dangerous health messaging. As does her casual shaming of STDS.
6.) Bisexuality shaming. This was a problematic element of SATC, when all the women were openly bi-shaming in season 3, when Carrie's boyfriend came out as bisexual. But clearly writers have not learnt from their mistakes. When Miranda breaks up with Che at the end of season 2 of AJLT and is considering dating men, Charlotte says to her: “You don't even know if you're gay. And as your very good friend of over 25 years, I think you should just figure it out.”
7.) The plotlines don't make sense and they seem to have forgotten the past. Aidan demanding he and Carrie don't see each other for five years because he needs to be with his kids. (Why so long? Especially at their age? Why can't Carrie go and visit him in Virginia?) Carrie also says to Sima at one point that she's never been one for taking to her bed when she's depressed. Er, sorry? Does she not remember being holed up in bed in a darkened room at a luxury resort in Mexico for a week, with Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha waiting on her hand and foot, after Big jilted her at the altar?
8.) The fashion is laughable. Carrie's closet in SATC remains iconic to this day. In AJLT, most of the time they all look like they're in pantomime or cos play of Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte. In one episode of the new season, Carrie is actually dressed as Strawberry Shortcake with the most ludicrous billowing hat.
9.) Religion shaming. In season 3, Miranda's lesbian sexual odyssey continues with a sweet woman called Mary, who Carrie and Miranda relentlessly then shame on account of being a nun.
Don't worry, she was also photographed in the most stunning designer dress.
10.) The writing is often appalling. It's just not as razor sharp, clever and poignant as it was in SATC. In the new season 3, when Carrie and Aidan attempt to have long-distance phone sex, Aidan is in his truck and accidentally beeps on the horn in his excitement. THE HORN! While getting the horn! And neither of them make a joke about it! Nor do any of Carrie's friends at a later date. (Oh how much we miss Samantha). Come on Michael Patrick King, do better…
I could go on and on - the grotesque privilege that goes unchecked and is so wrong for now! Carrie's crap interior decor!…I won't. I also won't be watching anymore. One thing I do love however? Carrie's cat, Shoe. She seems to be the only authentic, sweet and non-problematic element of Carrie's new life.
And Just Like That... will be available from 30 May on Sky and streaming service NOW.
For more from GLAMOUR's Assistant Editor and Entertainment Director, Emily Maddick, follow her on Instagram @emilymaddick.
