Saturday, Jul. 05, 2008

'Sex and the City' like waterboarding with Chanel No. 5

I took my wife, Kay, to see "Sex and the City" because she wanted to go and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

My wife really liked the movie. Meanwhile, I spent the evening fidgeting with my gimme hat. The whole thing made me uneasy.

Basically, the story line was that the lead female character fell in love with this guy because he built her a really big closet for her apartment. And that meant she could go shopping and buy more stuff.

That, to me, seems twisted.

You're probably thinking, "Kelso, now you've done it. First, you get a pedicure. Then you buy a Lexus. Then you move out of South Austin. And now you're going to see 'Sex and the City.' This means you've become a metrosexual."

Yeah, but I listen to a lot of Larry the Cable Guy on XM radio. So I'm thinking I'm really a Bubba-sexual.

Now, generally speaking, a romantic comedy, which this was, should last about an hour and a half. This piece of estrogen-soaked torture went on for at least two hours and 15 minutes. It was like being waterboarded with Chanel No. 5.

"I couldn't drink enough to go see that movie," a guy I know said.

Actually, it could be done, but it would be very expensive.

Oh, this movie did have three highlights. One of them was "The End."

No, really, the best recurring theme in the film is that one of the women in it owns a small punt-sized dog (that's a dog small enough to pick up and punt) that keeps, uh, lovin' on everything in sight. (Which didn't differentiate the dog that much from one of the female leads.)

I'll betcha a good half-dozen scenes in the movie featured the dog attaching itself to something and breathing heavily. I kept hoping somebody would show up with a garden hose and make that stop.

Perhaps the funniest scene in "Sex and the City" occurs when Samantha, played by Kim Cattrall, lay on a table and covered herself with homemade sushi for her boyfriend on Valentine's Day.

And he comes home from work late anyway.

Maybe she should have gone with a cheeseburger.

So now you're wondering what kind of people would show up for this movie.

Well, there were about five women near me who looked about the right age to join the bridge club. The old gal sitting next to me was wearing so much perfume that it gave me a flashback to one of my high school teachers who you could smell coming down the hall.

Then there was the one guy, probably in his 30s, who came in all alone and sat down by himself.

He's the one who made me nervous. I figure he's probably a serial killer.

Kelso writes for the Austin (Texas)

American-Statesman. E-mail:

jkelso@statesman.com.

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