The eagerly awaited sequel to the cherished show “Sex and the City,” known as “And Just Like That,” launched with great excitement but ultimately left lots of viewers feeling disappointed. For a series that once encapsulated a generation’s views on relationships, companionship, and fashion, its follow-up struggled to recapture that same appeal. The new installment, which intended to portray the characters’ experiences in their 50s, instead seemed disconnected and distant from the core elements that made the original legendary. It starkly contrasted the clever, innovative, and sometimes gritty storytelling that fans had grown to love.
A crucial aspect influencing the show’s feedback was the absence of a key character, Samantha Jones. The real-life tensions between the actresses who played Samantha and Carrie Bradshaw led to an awkward and disappointing plot for their roles. Rather than providing a fitting farewell to such an essential character, the show reduced Samantha to off-screen texts and unclear references, which seemed like a disrespectful way of diminishing her role in the group’s chemistry. Her lack of presence left a clear gap, as Samantha embodied a significant contributor of humor, independence, and bold sexuality that was greatly missed in the latest season.
Furthermore, the character arcs for the remaining trio, Carrie, Charlotte, and Miranda, felt forced and unauthentic. Carrie, the heart of the original series, was stripped of her signature introspection and unique voice. Her grief storyline, while a potential avenue for emotional depth, often felt melodramatic and lacked the nuanced exploration of her internal world that her columns once provided. Charlotte’s character, once a charmingly neurotic traditionalist, was pushed into storylines that felt cliché and superficial, failing to evolve her beyond her role as a doting wife and mother. Her struggles with parenting and social issues were presented in a manner that felt more like a checklist of modern problems rather than genuine human experiences.
Miranda’s transformation was perhaps the most jarring for long-time fans. Her journey from a cynical and pragmatic lawyer to a seemingly naive and stumbling student felt like a complete betrayal of her established personality. The show’s attempt to portray her mid-life awakening came across as a caricature, with her new-found love interest and exploration of queerness feeling less like a genuine discovery and more like a convenient plot device. This radical shift in character seemed to sacrifice her integrity for the sake of a “woke” narrative, alienating viewers who appreciated her for her realistic, no-nonsense attitude.
The introduction of new characters to compensate for Samantha’s absence and enhance diversity largely lacked successful integration into the narrative. Most of them appeared more as symbolic figures than as fully fleshed-out characters with unique storylines and motivations. The show’s efforts to tackle modern social topics, such as gender identity and racial disparities, appeared overbearing and moralizing. Discussions on these issues lacked the organic, engaging dialogue of the original show, resembling instructive seminars instead. This method stripped the series of its genuine charm, substituting its sharp humor with an overt attempt to be socially acceptable.
One of the most significant losses was the show’s iconic approach to fashion. In “Sex and the City,” fashion was a character in itself, an extension of the women’s personalities and a reflection of their emotional state. In “And Just Like That,” the fashion often felt like a costume, over-the-top and disconnected from the characters’ daily lives. While there were moments of brilliance, much of the wardrobe seemed to be a desperate attempt to capture the old magic, resulting in outfits that looked more like museum pieces than lived-in clothes. This superficial approach to style mirrored the show’s overall lack of substance.
The tempo and composition of the newly released series also played a role in its failure. The storyline frequently shifted from one incomplete plot aspect to another, offering insufficient time for authentic character growth or emotional impact. The limited-format season felt confining, leading to hurried plotlines and unfulfilling conclusions. The initial series excelled through its episodic format, presenting complete narratives each week that gradually built into a larger story arc. In contrast, the new version resembled a disjointed assembly of snapshots rather than a unified tale, causing viewers to feel as if they were observing a summary of squandered prospects.
Ultimately, the failure of “And Just Like That” can be attributed to its inability to understand what made “Sex and the City” so successful in the first place. The original show was a product of its time, a groundbreaking look at the lives of single women in New York City. Its charm lay in its honesty, its humor, and its unflinching portrayal of female friendships. The new series, by contrast, seemed to be trying too hard to be something it wasn’t, chasing after contemporary trends and social commentary without a solid foundation of character or story. It lost the authentic heart of its predecessor and, in doing so, lost its audience.
The show’s attempt to evolve the characters into their 50s missed the mark by failing to respect their established personalities. Instead of showing a natural progression, it forced them into situations and beliefs that felt completely out of character. This creative decision alienated the very fans who had grown up with these women and felt a personal connection to their journeys. The new series did not feel like a continuation of a story but rather a re-imagining of it, with key elements discarded in favor of a new, less compelling vision.
In the end, “And Just Like That” acted as an unsatisfying reminder that certain tales are better left as they are. Although the nostalgic appeal of bringing back the characters was compelling, the program itself did not offer a story befitting their history. It was a series with the opportunity to delve into the intricacies of growing older, facing loss, and undergoing transitions, but chose instead a shallow and uncreative path. The outcome was a show that seemed less like a tribute to friendship and more like an empty replica of a cherished original.
