Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Sex and the Muslim City: A Review

New York’s favorite four women of upper-class privilege and material indulgence have returned for a second helping of licentious adventures in romance, traveling and unforgiving product placement in "Sex and the City 2," the latest movie based off the popular HBO series.

In the sequel to 2008’s blockbuster hit, Samantha (played by the eternally fabulous Kim Catrall) takes her gal pals on an all-expenses paid trip to Abu Dhabi to pursue a job offer in the growing UAE hotel industry. Throughout their trip to what Samantha questionably dubs “The New Middle East,” the ladies of Manhattan embark on a mildly enjoyable romp complete with cultural insensitivities, hints at the superiority of Western-White Feminism and, of course, plenty of puns and sex.

Once the quartet of friends arrives in Abu Dhabi, they are luxuriously spoiled by the nation’s finest hotel. Although this is not necessarily new to a show that's always told one socioeconomic narrative of women's lives, it isn’t much of a plot, either.

Most of the movie simply showcases the girls’ extravagant stay at the opulent and highly exoticized hotel. As guests, they barely attempt to learn about the UAE or its culture (other than Miranda, who seems to only do so to gratify her rigid, type-A personality), and prefer to eat fancy breakfasts and shop to maximize some kind of tourist self-fulfillment. As a result, the stereotypical idea that all Americans (particularly American women) are greedy shopaholics and cultural imperialists whose main ambitions include material comfort and familiarity is only strengthened and reinforced.

Furthermore, when the girls aren’t relaxing at the hotel’s pool or calling for their individually assigned butlers, they are often mocking the Muslim culture for comedic effect. Samantha, while told several times by Miranda to wear less revealing clothing and discuss sexual matters less explicitly, continues to flaunt her understanding of what is appropriate behavior without even considering the cultural barriers she has crossed. She constantly forgets to cover her cleavage, makes out with a man in public, and even stares at a woman eating French fries under her veil as if she has found the most unusual animal at the zoo. In general, she flat out ignores the cultural norms of her current home of hospitality.

The other women of the Empire State don’t seem to fare much better. At one point, while having a discussion about why men are intimated by powerful women in the U.S., Miranda claims American men “want us eating French fries under our clothing, too,” rendering the Muslim culture inferior. None of the film’s stars recognize, at least not legitimately and respectfully, the cultural importance of maintaining a private sexuality in the Muslim world. Even when cautioning Samantha for her inexcusable ignorance, the group seems to collectively assume that Muslim women are, comparatively speaking, less free.

True, later in the film the ladies meet a bunch of Muslim women who reveal their beautiful clothing underneath their religious attire, providing them an opportunity to admire, not condemn, these women of another culture. However, instead of trying to understand why Muslim women wear such clothing and what that might mean for their multiple cultural identities, Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte gawk foolishly and are suddenly able to relate via similar interests for high fashion and Suzanne Sommer’s literature on menopause (the Muslim women seem to really like the same things as them; they just kept them hidden). It’s as if the movie’s conveys a message of the Westerner in all of us – particularly in women – just itching to get out and breathe that “freedom.”

Eventually, in a painful-to-watch performance, this inability to cross-culturally communicate culminates in Samantha throwing a handful of condoms up in the air at an Arab market during the call to prayer when her bag breaks and screaming “I HAVE SEX” at the top of her uneducated lungs.

Unfortunately the worst part about this scene isn’t that Samantha has yet to be punished for her outrageous behavior; she’s subsequently kicked out of the hotel. Samantha seems to have paid for her indelible insensitivity. No, the worst part is that when the film employs such methods of cultural ignorance as tools of humor, the significance of each character’s Americanized and Westernized stupidity is lost almost entirely.

In the end, "Sex and the City 2" is like most sequels out there – much worse than its predecessor. In addition to focusing on glamour and visual eye candy rather than story structure or character development, the movie seems to equate a complete disregard for cultural constructs of femininity, feminism and female sexuality with humorous misunderstandings and silly mistakes.