As a non-professional reviewer I don’t go and see everything. There’s stuff I skip. Especially films that I know I won’t like. Garbage like Disaster Movie and Vampires Suck, of course. Twilight films, because I just can’t be arsed. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, because the trailer annoyed the hell out of me. 18.104.22.168, because it is a mysoginist disgrace.
The nice thing of not being a professional reviewer is that you can dismiss and dislike films without having seen them. There’s no code-of-honour that applies to me that says I can only judge films I’ve seen. So with painful memories of Lost in Translation in mind, I can tell you that Sofia Coppola’s new film Somewhere is really, really uninteresting rubble. And my conscious won’t bother me.
At the same time however, if you really want to write a scathing review of something you are disgusted by, you will have to go and see the film. Prejudice and all if you want to, but you’ll have to see it. Which is why, at the end of this year, I have only one real movie-related regret: That I did not go and see Sex and the City 2. What? Yes. Because judged by the reviews of others, I would have had a field day with that monstrous middle-aged-chick flick. Looking back on the summer, in these dark and snowy days before Christmas, I wish I’d taken 146 minutes of my time to be able to write THAT review, an opportunity now lost forever.
Just to show what my keyboard might have spitted out, had I made this sacrifice, I present to you the funniest, vilest and meanest responses to the film that I could find. SATC2 may not have been the film-event of the year, it was definitely the highlight of movie criticism.
Relatively mild is Rick Groen, Toronto Globe and Mail:
“Miley Cyrus […] pops up ostensibly to play Miley Cyrus but really as a sop to that more callow generation of women who might just look at this Gang of Four and wonder, ‘Like, who are these middle-aged narcissists, and did they used to be somebody?’”
Most critics are slightly more offended. Take for instance Walter Chaw, from Film Freak Central:
“Miranda and Charlotte toast all the women out there who somehow raise children without the aid of a full-time, live-in nanny. When Marie Antoinette did this, the people tore down the f*cking Bastille. When our Sex and the City girls do it, they slurp it up like box rosé and Häagen-Dazs.”
Rex Reed, in The New York Observer :
“It is to movies what fried dough is to nutrition.”
Mark Kermode, from BBC 5 Live, tries to avoid turning the review into one of his notorious rants, but is so disgusted by SATC2′s “consumer porn” that he bursts into a full force rendition of the Internationale (at approx. 7.12):
And finally, Lindy West, in an already notorious text for The Stranger, was most offended by the film’s corruption of feminist ideals. But in a really funny way:
“SATC2 takes everything that I hold dear as a woman and as a human—working hard, contributing to society, not being an entitled cunt like it’s my job—and rapes it to death with a stiletto that costs more than my car. [...] If this is what modern womanhood means, then just fucking veil me and sew up all my holes. Good night.”
Now, I’ll just virtua-whisper it, but secretly I really hope for a Sex and the City 3 so I can join the chorus of contempt.