Latest news with #Aidan
The Guardian
10 hours ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
And Just Like That ... The Sex and the City spin-off's surprising take on race
Are any of the writers on And Just Like That (AJLT) reading this? Because I have several helpful suggestions to bring the current series of your Sex and the City reboot into 2025: Charlotte's husband, the hitherto harmless Harry, could start pressuring her into an open marriage, involving whatever passes for wild sex parties on the Upper East Side. Miranda could soon enter her Chappell-Roan-power-ballad era by hooking up with a sexually captivating, but emotionally unavailable, decades-younger woman. And what about a big reveal involving Aidan, who has been draining Carrie's bank accounts all along (because he's secretly a Reddit-radicalised, misogynist crypto bro now). I'd also suggest we see and hear a lot less from the children. The existence of Brady, Brock, Tilly and Twerp should only ever be referenced occasionally and obliquely, for form's sake. Y'know, like how people of colour were treated all the way through the original Sex and the City series? Ironically, racial politics is the one area in which AJLT is doing just fine, even without my help. This is not the consensus view, I'm aware. Many fans entered a state of full-body cringe during the first season, when Miranda wondered aloud if she was having 'a white saviour moment' when fighting off a mugger attacking her Black friend, and are yet to regain full use of their sphincter muscles. But the fact is, AJLT understands the specific whiteness of wealthy white women, in a way that not only vastly improves on the original show's run, but which could also teach other contemporary TV shows a thing or two about 'diversity' and 'representation'. Principally, this show gets things right by allowing its characters to get things wrong. The Mirandas of this world – and I can say this, because I am such a Miranda – often get to ride the righteous train all the way to Smug Town without so much as a ticket inspection. But the truth is, even the well-intentioned – especially the well-intentioned – have blind spots, and most of us could do with some practice at keeping our cool when those are brought to the fore. AJLT leans into the cringe and, as such, acts as a kind of anti-racist exposure therapy for its middle-aged, white, liberal core audience. The secondhand embarrassment it generates is healthy, productive and funny. Because imagine the alternative: this show could have remade its central trio as ever-elegant, socially confident 'sheroes'. Girl bosses who get it. Women who never miss a beat and are always at one with the sensibilities of the age. It could have shielded them from ever looking uncool or out-of-touch, or jaw-droppingly oblivious, in the way that Carrie does in the episode where her new Indian-American friend, Seema (Sarita Choudhury), takes her sari shopping in preparation for the Patel family's Diwali party. Upon entering the shop, Carrie's eyes widen in wonderment. 'OK …' she says, 'These clothes … This holiday … I need to know everything about it!' Thus revealing that she is a fiftysomething woman, who has spent her entire adult life living in one of the most diverse cities in the world and yet – somehow – has never heard of Diwali, a festival celebrated annually by around a billion Indian and South Asian-descended people, worldwide. Get a clue, Carrie. When that episode aired, some commentators (mostly white women) bristled at the depiction of their carefree, curly queen. They said it wasn't plausible. It was doing Carrie dirty. But some of us (women of colour and the other white women) recognised the truth in that characterisation. It's Lana Turner in the classic 1959 film Imitation of Life, expressing surprise when Annie (Juanita Moore), her Black maid of several decades – and, essentially, her closest confidante – refers to a rich social life outside work. Annie's response? 'Miss Lora, you never asked.' Seema takes this in her stride. I suspect she too has met plenty of Carries in her time. The scene only begins to strain credulity when, moments later, Carrie follows up by asking her if she's ever considered an arranged marriage – What? Because she's Indian? – and Seema still betrays no hint of irritation. It wasn't the writing of Carrie's character that was flawed in that moment, but the writing of Seema's. It's because of moments like these that I'm glad the characters of Professor Nya Wallace (Karen Pittman) and Che Diaz (Sara Ramirez) have been phased out for season three. Or, as I prefer to understand it, set free to share a chilled bottle of chablis and/or weed vape with other friends who actually get it. I'm glad for their own sakes, because no human being wants to feel like a walking BLM reading list for someone on their solipsistic journey toward belated political consciousness. It was always clear why Miranda would want to be friends with Nya, the stylish, self-assured professor on her policies and principles of humanitarian law course – if only to improve her grades. But what is Nya getting out of the arrangement? After a long day of battling the ingrained racism of Ivy League academia, tending to her needy Gen Z grad students and her own underwritten IVF storyline, why would she want to spend her evenings further exerting herself by explaining micro-aggressions to Miranda 'give me a gold star' Hobbs? How is that relaxing? Nya and Che's departures also leave more room for AJLT's other two characters-of-colour to be fully realised. Lisa Todd Wexley, played by Nicole Ari Parker, is an upper-middle-class Black woman (she would probably prefer 'African American') with a busy career in documentary film-making and her scenes in the edit offer a way for AJLT to make meta-commentary on media depictions of Blackness – worshipful references to Michelle Obama are a leitmotif, for instance. Something similar was previously attempted in season two, when Che decamped to Los Angeles to get their semi-autobiographical sitcom off the ground and the Italian-American actor Tony Danza was cast as their Mexican father. Sadly, by that point, nobody watching cared about Che's tedious travails, so nobody cared about the politics of colour-blind casting either. Lisa isn't just a working mother with an impressive collection of oversized jewellery. She is also a classic example of the bad'n'bougie princess, a trope which allows TV to explore the intersections of race, gender and class, and has a noble lineage stretching back to Lisa Turtle on Saved by the Bell, through Hilary Banks on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and Dionne Davenport in Clueless, all the way to reality star Gizelle Bryant on Real Housewives of Potomac. Here, I detect the hand of Susan Fales-Hill, proud descendent of US 'afrostocracy', creator of original bougie princess Whitley Gilbert from A Different World, and a writer on AJLT since season two. Seema's type is more obvious. She is a new Samantha, brought in to replace our dearly beloved Kim Cattrall from the original SATC, a woman with so much charisma she could almost – but not quite – get away with wearing an afro wig to a post-chemo social gathering. Seema has Samantha's confidence and fondness for animal prints, but to that she adds her own top-note of vulnerability. Being a professionally high-flying, never-married, child-free woman in your 50s is fabulous. But, in a world that likes to constantly remind women of how they've failed to please the patriarchy, an occasional wobble of self-doubt is to be expected. It's in this wider context of the third season, with more screen time and better storylines, that Seema's ethnicity can be just one aspect of her character; neither defining, nor denied. Now, when Seema's cultural heritage is referenced, it's usually on her own terms, and in her own words. As she cautions bossy date-finder Sydney Cherkov (Saturday Night Live's Cheri Oteri): 'I'm Indian, we invented matchmaking'. And just like that, through an ever-enjoyable, show-your-workings process of trial-and-error, this show has landed on what it can most usefully add to the pop culture discourse about race. And that isn't shoe-horning in badly written POC characters to offer a hastily bodged version of racial diversity and representation. Rather it's exploring the whiteness of Miranda/Charlotte/Carrie as they move through this changed and changing world, but – crucially – always with a tad more self-awareness than the characters themselves possess. Now, back to more pressing matters: Should Charlotte order specially monogrammed stationery from Tiffany's for those sex party invites? And who's telling Anthony he's been cut from the guest list?
Vogue
12 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Vogue
63 Thoughts I Had While Watching And Just Like That… Season 3, Episode 4
I'm going to warn you guys in advance that this particular installment of And Just Like That… is, well, not exactly a thrill ride. I mean, it's hard to top the fun of episodes past, not to mention the original Sex and the City canon (I just rewatched the episodes where the girls go to LA, and man, I miss Samantha), but do things really have to be this dry and Aidan-centric? Nonetheless we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into Michael Patrick King's intellectual property. Below, find (literally) every thought I had about the fourth episode of And Just Like That…'s third season:
New York Times
12 hours ago
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘And Just Like That …' Season 3, Episode 4 Recap: Guilty
Season 3, Episode 4: 'Apples to Apples' Is it time for all of us to face the very real possibility that Aidan is a narcissist? For the second time in their yearslong love affair, Aidan has lured Carrie to the countryside. In 'Sex and the City' Season 4, Aidan finds a backwoods cabin in the unfortunately named Suffern, N.Y., and all but forces Carrie to spend weekends up there with him and a domestic terrorist squirrel. This time, though, Carrie is in Virginia with Aidan, not so much against her will. In last week's episode, Carrie eagerly showed up down south to deliver Aidan a key to 'their' (insert eye-roll emoji) Gramercy palace, and then Aidan asked her to stay. Why, exactly, does he do that? Carrie asks Aidan that very question toward the end of this episode. There is only one correct answer, and it goes something like: 'Because you're the love of my life. I miss you, and I wish we could be together all the time, and I just wanted to feel that for at least a few days.' But Aidan tells Carrie nothing of the sort. He says simply, 'I felt guilty because you came all the way down here, and if I couldn't ask you to stay, what does that say about us?' Here is what I think: I think that response solidifies for viewers that Aidan is a deeply selfish, stubborn, manipulative jerk who is dead-set on making everyone close to him bend to his will. For starters, Aidan has successfully maneuvered his way into getting what he wants out of Carrie in this most recent iteration of their relationship. In 'And Just Like That …' Season 2, he refused to set foot in Carrie's house — a melodramatic boundary rooted in old cheating wounds Carrie had apologized for time and again. But then Carrie went and sold it and bought the Gramercy townhouse that he all but refuses, essentially, to set foot in today. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
Elle
12 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Elle
Carrie Learns What Aidan's Family Is Really Like on 'And Just Like That...'
Spoilers below. Over the past few weeks, and certainly in the last episode, Carrie had been losing her patience with Aidan. Is their long-distance romance really worth it? Why would she get a new apartment if he wasn't going to live in it? And did he really have to be with his kids all the time? So she wondered. But in this week's And Just Like That… she finally understands why. Carrie wakes up in Aidan's guest house to find her man and two of his teenage sons, Homer and Wyatt (the one who needed Adderall and got into a drunk driving accident), painting the house together. The former greets her with a warm welcome, while the latter gives her the cold shoulder. He's standoffish even as they eat pancakes together, and as Carrie hops onto the family ATV to drive into town to buy some new clothes. (Did you ever think you'd see Carrie Bradshaw riding an ATV in rural Virginia?) Naturally, this tension urges Carrie to want to bond with Aidan's kids... with fishing. Of course, Wyatt would rather be playing at the VR video game spot at the mall. Aidan is not a fan of this place—too much screen time!—but he coalesces with some convincing from Carrie. It turns out to be a great idea, the four of them blasting zombies into virtual oblivion. But Wyatt accidentally hits Carrie in the head, which sours the mood. Meanwhile, Lisa is so stressed about hiring a new producer in Grace's absence that she's talking in her sleep. (Loud enough that her husband, Herbert, has to sleep in another room.) Luckily, she has a dream candidate, named Marian, with a near-perfect resume coming in for an interview. However, Marian turns out to be a very gorgeous man (Mehcad Brooks) who leaves Lisa speechless. He has great experience, he's watched Lisa's own films, and he even knows Grace personally; but Lisa is torn. Should she be hiring a man to edit a documentary about unsung women? Seema, on the other hand, is ready to start her own real estate company, but first, she faces Ryan Serhant as he makes yet another cameo to try to hire her. Seema refuses, and she even poaches the secretary on the way out. As for the Goldenblatts, Harry gets a bit more of the spotlight over Charlotte this week, as his worries about aging—which he faced in the last episode with a rough night out at the club—get worse. And there's no better reminder of old age than a visit from his own elderly father, who's brought all his eccentricities along with him: hitting on the neighbor, questioning the sexuality of Lily's ballerina boyfriend, and getting lost on the way to get the morning paper. Harry's anxiety is so overwhelming it affects him in the bedroom. His father used to be such a beast, and now he walks around with 'a limp banana' (referring to both the fruit and a euphemism here). Charlotte has a thoughtful response: 'Will not having sex mean that we aren't Harry and Charlotte?' It's a no-brainer; of course what really matters is their love and connection with each other, even if it isn't physical. It's an interesting conversation for a franchise known as SEX and the City. But when they realize Harry's father has been searching porn on Rock's iPad and left to spend the night with the neighbor, Harry has hope again. Miranda seems to be making progress with Joy. Their 'media training' sessions have been productive, and it shows as Miranda does a live broadcast interview in front of the UN building. All is going well, she's raising awareness about human rights issues across the globe—but a slip-up turns her into meme fodder. While saying the word 'wild country,' she awkwardly pauses, leading the internet to think she said 'wild cunt.' The clip is now going viral across TikTok, and her son, Brady, and Charlotte's daughter, Lily, have already seen it. Miranda fears that Joy has too. When she's slow to respond to Miranda's invite to drinks, Miranda thinks it's because she's seen the meme and got the ick. Joy and her very British friends eventually do come over to meet Miranda (at Carrie's apartment, by the way, because she is house-sitting), but Joy is quiet and keeps to herself. Miranda is convinced this must be because of the viral video. She asks Joy about it on her way out. Luckily for Miranda, Joy's strange behavior is actually a sign that she likes her back. She tends to shut down when she likes someone, she says. Miranda kisses her on the stoop of Carrie's new apartment, and although Joy is convinced she's a bad kisser, Miranda confirms she is not. Back in Virginia, Aidan's eldest son, Tate, arrives for his 21st birthday celebration. Aidan's ex, Kathy, and her new boyfriend, Bob, also join the party. Here they all are, a happy blended modern family. But as the night progresses, the cracks start to show. Bob reveals to Carrie that Aidan is against Wyatt taking Adderall, even though Kathy has supported it. No wonder Kathy asked Carrie to smuggle the prescription drugs from New York to Virginia; she was doing it behind Aidan's back. And that explains Aidan's confused reaction to Carrie's delivery. Upon hearing this, Carrie goes into the kitchen to apologize to Aidan right away, but he doesn't want this argument to ruin his son's birthday. He snaps at Carrie, and takes out the cake for his eldest. Things seem to hit a high note later that night as the whole crew is enjoying a game of Apples to Apples, but Wyatt is at his wit's end. When Carrie wins a round of the game over him (sorry no one understood your X-Men reference, king), he lashes out and curses at his family, claiming that they never cared about him. He storms out of the house and the arguments ripple throughout the rest of his relatives. The boys think Aidan babies Wyatt; Kathy uses this as a case to put Wyatt on Adderall; Aidan refuses, citing Wyatt's substance abuse problem, and scolds Kathy for getting Carrie involved. The pressure comes to a head when Wyatt smashes the dining room window. Carrie responds with a look that says, What did I get myself into? But Carrie is more understanding than that. She retreats to the guest house to give the family some space, and Aidan meets up with her after a swim to clear his mind. She sits him down for a serious confession: When Aidan said that he had to be down in Virginia with his family, she didn't really understand why. She isn't a parent, how could she know? But now, after spending time with them in their home, she really gets it. And she'll no longer let that stop her from living her life. For so long, she put off decorating the house or buying furniture (remember that dining table?), believing Aidan might suddenly change his mind and come back to New York. Now she's comfortable with giving him all the space and time he needs. Aidan tearfully asks what we're all wondering at this point: 'Are you breaking up with me?' Well no, Carrie will opt for something far more complicated than that. She confirms they are not breaking up and gives Aidan a key to her apartment—sorry, their apartment. When she flies back to New York with her uncharacteristically frilly dresses, she wonders whether she's now 'closer to or further from' what she really wants. If this is about that dining room table, the answer is further—it's already sold out. But when it comes to her relationship with Aidan, we'll need to sleep on that.
TimesLIVE
2 days ago
- Sport
- TimesLIVE
Proteas potential 'scares and excites' me, says coach Shukri Conrad
Even when they had their backs to wall at the end of the first innings, he had little to say. 'I think we knew we were behind. But again, the hallmark of this team is the ability to stand up. 'And different guys can stand up when the occasion demands, I spoke of Aidan's broad bat — he doesn't like me to refer to him as a superstar. But when you need your Rolls Royce to come purring through down the street, and he does that, I'm talking about KG Rabada now.' He also raved about Lungi Ngidi, whose nine-over spell in Australia's second innings captured three wickets, including that of Steve Smith. 'That spell of Lungi pretty much turned the test match in our favour. The world's best batsman — he stood between us chasing 280 and maybe 380.' Even though they won comfortably in the end, Conrad said he didn't believe the team had played to their full potential. 'There's so much else sitting in this changing room and it scares me and it excites me at the same time, where we can go with this. 'I really look forward to the next couple of years.'
