In Just Two Episodes, ‘And Just Like That’ Season 2 Has So Many Scenes That Make Me Ask ‘WHY?’

Well, gang, we’re back. Sex and the City revival And Just Like That premiered its second season last Friday, and it’s already back on its usual bullshit. The first season, at the very least, eased into its silliness over the course of an episode or two, but this second season has already committed to a complete nosedive into absurdity.

Where to even begin! In just two episodes, we’ve already been given so many bizarre moments to work with—moments that didn’t need to be in the show, moments that were just plain cringey, moments that could have worked if they’d had a tighter writing process, just so much that made me wince. I’m sure most of you won’t even grace this show with a hate-watch, and I don’t blame you; I’m only giving it a shot because it’s fluffy stress-relief, and I still have a fondness for the original series.

These are some of the moments that had me shaking my head the most. For those of you who don’t plan on watching the show, but want a heaping dose of schadenfreude … well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The ‘Met Ball’ Kerfuffle

So, we’re already aware of how out-of-touch this show is, right? It flagrantly indulges in bougie sensibilities that only reflect the lifestyles of the most upper-class people in this country, and that alone makes many scenes insufferable. But nearly everything about the whole “Met Ball” plot line had me pinching my nose—particularly when it came to Anthony!

In the original series, a common criticism was how Stanford Blatch (played by the late, beloved Willie Garson) was often reduced to Carrie’s token gay best friend. He’d be included, but not really. The girls would make fun of him and tease him yet still expect him to be there unequivocally for them. See below:

But now, with Stanny “in Japan” (the writers’ clunky, somewhat insensitive way of trying to write around Garson’s death during production), Anthony seems to have filled that role. And it’s brutal to watch.

Of anyone in that group of miserable one-percent socialites, Anthony is by far the most primed to actually enjoy and make the best of the Met Ball. But they keep jilting him! Anthony gets passed around like hot cakes to everyone who needs a plus-one, up until they find someone “better” to replace him with. Poor Anthony is told on the day of the ball that Carrie suddenly can’t go with him because her friend Seema wants to go now, so he’s forced to just sit home and eat cheese puffs on his couch … until, of course, Charlotte needs someone to replace her husband.

It’s all meant to be played off as a big joke, but it honestly just annoys the crap out of me! There isn’t anything funny about this game of musical chairs; it’s just mean! Anthony’s always been a catty friend, sure, but he’s also consistently been a good friend to this group. And they really do him dirty over this one thing that he’s genuinely excited about!

The taxi scene

The scene that actually made me gasp was regarding the Wexley family, Charlotte’s new friends. A common discourse surrounding this show has been about its tendency to treat its new POC characters as “emotional support token friends”:

Essentially, what this means is each of the main girls suddenly has a BIPOC friend, all of whom feel less like real, fleshed-out human beings and more like emblems of a very sheltered person’s idea of “diversity.” Seema and Nya, at the very least, feel like they’re starting to get their own footing as individual characters (I actually really like Nya), but the Wexleys don’t really seem to have an identity beyond being an upper-class Black family in NYC. As such, they’ve become shoe-ins for the show’s attempts at racial commentary—most evident in the taxi-cab scene in episode 2.

On their way out, Herbert tries to hail a cab, but when the cab driver sees that he and his children are Black, he pulls away. Herbert angrily starts shouting at the cab and slamming on the hood of the car, while his children, mother, and mother’s friends look on. His mother turns away and pretends he isn’t her son, and then later, the family all sits down to talk about racism—all before very quickly cutting away to the next scene and never broaching the subject again, of course.

And look, I’m not saying things like this don’t happen, but this scene feels so ham-fisted and strange, especially within the larger framework of such a superficial show, that it’s analogous to a high school history presentation. There’s no real heart or emphasis behind it, there’s no reason to put a scene like this in the show except to “prove” how “progressive” it is. And in the end, they just make a mockery of very real issues that Black Americans go through by throwing such a cheap, poorly-written scene at us.

Marina Miranda

We’ll end on the character we’ve been most bewildered by during this reboot: Miranda Hobbes, once a powerful no-nonsense lawyer, now desperately head-over-heels for Che Diaz, Carrie’s coworker and a comedian who—while, yes, is charismatic and hot—has very little chemistry with Miranda. Perhaps if you kept abreast with our coverage of the first season, you might be wondering if things have become a little more believable (or, at least, tolerable) between Miranda and Che.

Well, they haven’t. Not in the slightest. In fact, things are less believable. I just don’t see how this couple works at all, when you take into account who Miranda is (or, rather, was) and how Che fits into all of this. Moreover, while I understand they’re trying to give Miranda’s character a “metamorphosis,” I just find the execution of this growth to be so sloppy.

Whereas once Miranda happily lived a self-possessed life, she now spends her days waiting for Che to be available, while she just sort of mills around their place in Los Angeles. We see Miranda struggle to put on a strap-on while Che just kinda waits and doesn’t help. We see Miranda get negged for using her cell phone at a beach cleanup, which would never happen in L.A. I guarantee you everyone would be filming themselves. And then we see Miranda lose her phone at the beach, only to be picked up by Che’s ex-husband, who they’re still technically married to. No, Miranda didn’t know any of this beforehand, and no, it isn’t brought up again.

Now, regarding Che themself, I gotta admit, I’m enjoying their individual character development, but I still don’t believe this relationship whatsoever. When Che rebuffs Miranda’s affections, you get the impression, based on their little interactions with each other and friends, that Che just isn’t that into Miranda and that things are moving too fast. That would make sense, based on everything we’ve seen of the two of them thus far! Instead, when confronted, Che admits that their TV producers have been pressuring them to go on a diet, so they feel very sensitive about their body image right now.

Again, like with the taxi scene, this is a real thing that happens, but it feels like a disservice to the characters, the show, and the real issues the show is attempting to tackle when it’s just thrown in at random. There was all this tension that alluded to Che not being into Miranda, but it got flattened with this random line that had no buildup whatsoever. The writers don’t seem to recognize their own flow, and are instead working against it. They are so determined to milk the Che/Miranda relationship for all it’s worth, when it simply isn’t working.

Believe it or not, there’s more

These were just the three biggest things that came to mind, but there’s already so much about this show that begs the question: why, why, why? We’ve been given all these new characters who are being treated like main cast members without any buildup to create any fondness for them. We’re shown, over and over, such garish displays of wealth and excess that one has to wonder if we’ve gotta phone in Rina Sawayama yet again. And continually, the spirit of the original show is neither given any respect nor expanded upon in a way that serves a more interesting narrative.

I mean, Christ, where’s Steve? The man has all but evaporated into thin air. And why did they have to make Harry dress up in such a godawful outfit? Thigh-highs and a top-hat, for Harry? And why, and why, and why?

Unfortunately, I am still invested all the same, if only to see how they pull off the reintroduction of our “big country bear,” Aidan. Excuse me while I go find some aspirin.

(featured image: Craig Blankenhorn/Max)