Sex and the City (Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristen Davis, Cynthia Nixon, Jennifer Hudson) — I am just not qualified to write this review. I am not fashion-absorbed, sex-obsessed, New York self-righteous, forever-infantile, and female. If I were, I could not only write this review, I could have stomached this so-called “film.” Guys/dudes, don’t see this movie! You just won’t get it, like it or understand why the women watching it enjoy it so much. I decided that the film is just what I’ve heard is a “girl’s night out.” It’s giggly and sappy and overwrought and titillating. (Guys nights out are worse, I fear). That’s unfair because most of the women I know — and love — are not these things. But Carrie (Parker), Miranda (Nixon), Samantha (Cattrall) and Charlotte (Davis) are all these things almost all of the time. The HBO TV series had more real fake drama than the movie, and the quartet seemed more real in weekly doses. Somehow, in making the movie, they managed to turn this into a 150-minute poorly-written sitcom/angst-fest that just wouldn’t end, even when the ending was clear to everyone except the space cadets who made up the audience I saw this with. I only occasionally watched the TV show and admit kind of enjoying the then-young women obsessed with love, sex and clothes; it was an indulgent pleasure. But this thing is too much of a bad thing … unless you are any two or more of the hyphen-filled adjectives I used at the beginning of this review. It will make a lot of money, but you’d be better off buying the DVD boxed set of the TV series than spending the money on a movie ticket.