Just one of those yawn-ful nights where I had to do something.. like anything.. just ANY thing. And so I was making dinner and decided to grab a copy of this movie. I didn't even watch the series on HBO, but I knew it had to spark some sanity in me.
So there I was waiting for my dinner. I was first watching a rathian wyvern getting pitfall-en and tranquilized and realized the data wasn't working, so I went on to look for an alternative.
God, okay okay. Enough of my damn excuses. I did watch the entire movie, as much as I hate to admit it. The whole 2 hours and 24 f'n minutes of it. Hahaha. I even know the entire duration, would you believe that?
The movie was dashingly predictable. You'd know from the first 20 minutes what the end of it is but you just got to see it to prove yourself right. It's simple and adorable and peer-friendly. I need not say it's a little too much feminine, duh.. Feminine? Who'd have guessed?
Carrie Bradshaw. The only Bradshaw I know that is ironically also a New Yorker is a brawler named John Bradshaw Layfield. Most wise guys know him. Well, Carrie is a dreamer to say the least. A dreamer whose unfulfilled fantasies finally came along in the end, and just as everyone including her thought that she could have a fairy tale conclusion, everything went haywire and poof! goes the fantasy.
It's a feel good tickle-me-somewhere-I-don't-know-where-kind-of movie. It depends how schmaltzy you are to tolerate the quantity of cheesiness in the movie, a spark of fashion to truly blurt out all the more femininity.
Not for everyone, but good for a date maybe, or a husband-wife getaway.
Mr. Big is also my name, they say, if you know what I mean. ;-) Hahahahahaha!