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‘Sex and the City 2’ reviews: How many ways can you say ‘This movie stinks’?

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The reviews are still flooding in for ‘Sex and the City 2’ and guess what? They’re as bad as ever. The film’s Rotten Tomatoes fresh rating is now residing at 12, which is higher than 0, which is where it was a day ago, but still lower than any other major release this year, and that’s including ‘Tooth Fairy,’ ‘Valentine’s Day’ and, yes, even ‘MacGruber.’

The critics have been having a field day, notably the New York Post’s Kyle Smith, whose review ran under the inspired headline ‘Sucks in the City.’ Smith didn’t mince words, putting it this way: ‘As tasteless as an Arabian cathouse, as worn-out as your 1998 flip-flops and as hideous as the mom jeans Carrie wears with a belly-baring gingham top, ‘Sex and the City 2’ is two of the worst movies of the year.’

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There are theorists who have claimed that the movie is getting pummeled especially hard by male film critics who weren’t fans of the show in the first place (though that’s hardly true of the Post’s Smith, who boasted on his blog that he’d watched every episode of the TV show). But even my colleague Betsy Sharkey, who reviewed the film today, wasn’t any more enthusiastic.

Here’s how she led off her review: ‘If only they’d called it ‘Almost No Sex and Very Little City,’ at least we would know what we were in for with ‘Sex and the City 2.’ In this second screen incarnation of the fabulous HBO series, the satire is sagging, the irony’s atrophied and the funny is flabby.’

This is the kind of movie that actually makes you want to know what Rex Reed had to say, since the ageless New York Observer critic practically invented the art of film bitchism. He doesn’t disappoint. Taking a big roundhouse swing when I’m sure a couple of jabs and a tiny left hook would do, he writes:

‘The only thing memorable about ‘Sex and the City 2’ is the number two part, which describes it totally, if you get my drift. Everything else in this deadly, brainless exercise in pointless tedium is dedicated to the screeching audacity of delusional self-importance that convinces these people the whole world is waiting desperately to watch two hours and 25 minutes of platform heels, fake orgasms and preposterous clothes. It is to movies what fried dough is to nutrition.’

I’m hoping that no matter how much money the film makes over the holiday weekend that Michael Patrick King and company will be too ashamed to ever breathe a mention of ‘SATC 3.’ I think it’s time this franchise got a chance to rest in peace.

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