Of the new chapter of Sex and the City that will arrive on HBO Max between the end of 2021 and the beginning of 2022 we know nothing. The only peephole from which you can peek at something is offered by the photographs that the paparazzi take in the streets of Manhattan in Carrie, Miranda e Charlotte who, in the only official portrait shared by the platform, parade confidently and proudly on the Upper East Side. Leaving aside the unbridgeable void left by Samantha (Kim Cattrall), who perhaps smelled the fold that And Just Like That, this is the title of the revival, will take to keep slyly away, there is also another dilemma that inflames the fans and a certain slice of criticism: the way the series will address the aging of the characters and their evolution over time.
In the era of female empowerment, body positivity and the stigmatization of thoughts such as the fear of white hair, Sarah Jessica Parker was quick to explain that the new Sex and the City it will be mature, inclusive, in step with the times, mirror of all the battles, some sacrosanct and others less so, that are carried out by influencers on Instagram. The real problem is that Sex and the City has always been a light and openly superficial series that has done, yes, good things for women’s independence, like talking about topics like sex that were taboo for the fairer sex on television, but also represented an ultra-glam universe in which the protagonist risks being evicted from her apartment because most of her money was spent on buying Manolo Blahnik and tulle skirts, certainly not setting them aside for the kids’ college.
The perplexity about the first shots “stolen” from the set concerns the protagonist of the series: Carrie Bradshaw, the girl tormented by appearances who, at the age of fifty, chooses to show regrowth. Now: leaving out the fact that, in real life, Sarah Jessica Parker dyes her hair and the fact that the writers will surely let us know that Carrie has matured and become wiser in the meantime, who has followed all the seasons of the Sex and the City original knows that Carrie would never have given up on the dye. For Miranda, the situation is different: Miranda has never liked conventions – let’s not forget that sequence in the first film in which Samantha scolded her for not having pruned the bush between her legs – and the fact that she does not dye her hair. fifty years old – exactly like her pre-face Cynthia Nixon – we expect it a little, as we expect it to Charlotte (Kristin Davis) don’t show up with silver hair because it would be “unseemly”. That Carrie doesn’t, though, is pretty inconsistent, at least for now.
It is clear that the new Sex and the City – 10 episodes of half an hour each – want to convey fundamental messages such as inclusiveness, maturation and the rest, but the risk is that he wants to give us a moral lesson on how women should age, that is, accepting one’s age by renouncing vanity (were we not free to do as we please, to resort to surgery if we felt we needed it without being judged?). We haven’t seen the episodes yet, and we don’t know how Darren Starr treated the narrative material, but from the series that made the fortune of the fashion industry and downtown restaurants with endless waiting lists, we also expect that thrill of lightness that made us fall in love the first time. If it were not, it would not be Sex and the City.