My Missus is currently re-watching the original episodes of Sex and the City, therefore I’m re-watching the original episodes SatC. Like many critics and viewers, (in light of the new run) my Missus notes that much of the original series has not aged well. From racism to homophobia to classism, the show is peak-1990’s excesses lensed through white-entitlement. And yes, the cringe is strong here.
*Obviously, spoilers*
What the show does well, however, is character consistency. From the beginning, Carrie (our guide) is a horrible person and she remains a horrible person throughout. Sarah Jessica Parker plays Carrie understated with gentle wisecracks and winking judgement. That deft, sugared, portrayal is the only reason you stick with this pretentious social climber.
Carrie strip-mines her friends’ relationships for her newspaper/magazine columns, (plus-points for accurately dipicting that NO friends/family EVER reads anything their writer friend/family writes). While she rails against moneyed, forty-something-NYC men and their obsession with twenty-year-old (or younger) women, thirty-something Carrie is sexing up twenty-year-old band boys, underwear models, and club kids. A sexual tourist, she makes everyone else’ kinks and/or intimate faux pas the punchline of her byline. Meanwhile, she scrupulously keeps her own Freudian slip tucked away in the pursuit of—either plain-vanilla coitus or social entre—it’s never really clear which gets her off.
When Carrie does find Aiden, a full-grown man who neither uses coffee filters for toilet paper nor inflicts “jackrabbit” sex upon her, (he gets points for economic achievement and NOT being married) she promptly cheats on him. We won’t even get into the myriad examples of Carrie’s Ahab-like passion for Mr. Big, (the forty-something vulture capitalist who Carrie hunts through the seven sea—um, five boroughs).
Lessons for Writers
More than simple car-crash fascination, there’s writing gold here.
Carrie adores the idea of Aiden. But in person Carrie’s attitude toward Aiden is closer to creep-masturbating-on-the-subway disdain. She brutalizes Aiden with his own affection, repeatedly. I mean, the heffa uses Aiden’s dog as cover for a tryst with Mr. Big—and then loses the poor dog. Ultimately, Aiden rolls her like the dirty nickel that she is.
"Don't bend; don't water it down..." Franz Kafka
Consistency is the glue that the reader/view must have to suspend disbelief. It would be easy to attribute all of Carrie's dysfunction to “daddy issues” but if that was all there was to it, we wouldn’t be watching this show twenty-years later. Carrie is a NYC girl, through and through. That means she’s from somewhere else. That means she had to fight to carve out a life in probably the toughest city in the country. She had to harden in order to wear couture on mid-town sidewalks Also, the writing game eats “nice" people for lunch. In short, Carrie is exactly the person, (selfish, callous, calculating, I can go on…) that she needs to be to succeed in that city. The SatC crew never forgot that and never softened or diluted Carrie.
Other pages, other stages, consistency remains the key to a successful story
George Lucas did a couple of indie films before it was cool but he is NOT a writer, (good or otherwise). Luckily he had a good editor in his (then) wife Marcia. He also had the EXCELLENT Irvin Kershner directing The Empire Strikes Back. Fan good-will carried the middling Return of the Jedi.
Those same fans continued to crave stories long after Lucas had stepped away from a galaxy far, far away. Alan Dean Foster, Timothy Zahn, et al fed the hungry. Many of those books are SO much better than Lucas’ thin stories with plot holes you could toss a wookiee through. The characters are much more fleshed out and fully formed. Yet, still...
Sometimes the movie is better than the book
The one thing George did better than all of the books put together was Han Solo. A gambler and smuggler. Solo is the archetype fighter pilot. He’s arrogant and quick-witted without EVER bogging down in deep thoughts. Scruples don’t weigh him down much either.
Like Carrie Bradshaw, Han Solo came up rough on a crime-riddled planet where it is tough to survive much less thrive. And, just like Carrie, he made hard decisions that would crush other people. Unlike Carrie, Han is all-out there in what gets him off: action. Cards, smuggling, fights, dangerous dudes and bad girls—action is his addiction. His constant hunt for action often leads him to catastrophe.
“Same thing I always do. Talk my way out of it.” Han Solo, (upon being cornered by two crime factions he has swindled) The Force Awakens
Of course it doesn’t work. It never works. Chewbacca, Han’s only friend, knows it won’t work and says so. Han argues right up to the point where everything goes…pear-shaped. But what does works for Han, what always works for Han is dumb, fickle luck.
“Would it help if I got out and pushed?” General Leia Organa, Princess of Alderan
In the books Han has a loving relationship with Leia, a warm friendship with Luke, and a distinguished career in the New Republic and Galactic Alliance Navy. An admiral, Han leads a battle group. Ultimately, he raises three children who he loves and dotes on.
“Han was...'Han' about it..." Luke Skywalker, The Last Jedi
All the loving-family stuff reads cute but it’s not Han Solo. Seriously, he and Leia have tremendous chemistry but it’s not “build a life together” chemistry. It’s “Yoda, I hope he took all his stuff when he left” chemistry. And friendship? With Luke? No. Chewbacca is only one who can tolerate Han at length, largely because Han will let you down. He will get drunk and get into a card game and leave you to sort out your own problems. Seriously, once past the hero-worship stage, Luke (and everyone else) really just tolerates Han. Chewbacca owes Han his life and the wookiee seems determined to save Han...from himself if necessary.
As for military prowess, Han is a brawler. That does not translate to leader. In fact, he couldn’t lead a simple raid with the element of surprise, special forces troops, and dense forest cover. His answer to everything is “shoot first” and don't worry about anything later. He is aloof and dismissive of subordinates, (e.g. the way he speaks to the deck officer and tauntaun wrangler on Hoth) and he’s largely unconcerned with the welfare of those under his command.
"And Han Solo... you feel like he's the father you never had. He would have disappointed you." Kylo Ren, The Force Awakens
Han is not the father to teach his kids how to play ball, pilot a speeder, or how to deal with peer pressure. He’s the father who’s gone. A lot. Teething, puberty, and teen rebellion? Han would’ve noped-the-hell out, as fast as the Falcon would take him.
Lucas (and later, Abrams) “got” Han. He doesn't end up with Leia. He doesn't die peaceful and contented in a life well lived. George and J.J. understood what made Han tick.
You have to do the same with your protagonist. Take them to their logical conclusion. Even (especially?) when it's not where you want them to go.
“He ruined our happy-sad ending.” – Carrie, And Just Like That
Carrie does end up with Big. They're meant for each other. Mostly, because they're both too terrible for anyone else. Far from a happy ending, she would have turned a blind eye to his continued philandering. When he dies, (in another woman’s bed or in jail for stock manipulation but mos def NOT on a Peloton) she continues on, like a good New Yorker.
P.S.
There's no world where a climber like Carrie gives up the Everest of Manhatten achievement—that Fifth Ave penthouse. Logic, people, it’s your guiding star. Without it, you get your readers lost.
The photo at the top, the title card from And Just Like That... is the property of HBOMax. It is used here for educational/instructional purposes as covered by the Fair Use Doctrine.
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