Since the release date for the Sex and the City was announced months ago, I vowed to rewatch every episode in May before I see the movie. I foolishly thought moving would allow me plenty of time to watch all 94 episodes. In actuality, I sat down to officially start this project and watch the first episode last Saturday, May 17. Two weeks is plenty of time for currently unemployed/job-seeking self to do something I enjoy doing anyway. It's worth noting my pursuit is not unique. Emily Gould is blogging her same experience, even more condensed than mine, for Jezebel under the clever tag living viCarrieously
It's generally accepted among fans the show gets better as it goes on. The early episodes are funnier than I remember, but I miss the bittersweetness that develops over time. There are scenes I find so ridiculous (i.e. Carrie freaking out when she farts in front of Mr. Big), I can't even take the episode seriously. It made me take Carrie less seriously too. When she breaks up with Mr. Big the very next episode because he won't say he loves her, it seems silly. She wants to hear I love you, but she can't deal with a fart. Truthfully, I've never been a fan of Mr. Big and Carrie together; I thought she should want (and deserved) better. What I'm realizing as I watch it from the beginning, however, is that Carrie is rather neurotic. Chris Noth's performance is better than I've ever given him credit for. This time around, at least so far, I think Mr. Big deserves, if not better, different than Carrie.
No show is perfect, but even season one is still immensely quotable. My absolute favorite from the season came from Miranda in episode ten, "The Baby Shower."
Maybe it's maturity, or the wisdom that comes with age, but the witch in Hansel and Gretel, she's very misunderstood. I mean, the woman builds her dream house, and these brats come along and start eating it!
Bring on season two.