And just like that, Samantha’s cameo – sorry, “special appearance” – was over. We knew it wouldn’t be a lengthy drop-in, given that Kim Cattrall allegedly cannot stand Sarah Jessica Parker, and had already disclosed that the two women filmed separately. Still, perhaps we expected it to be longer than a minute and a half.
Rather brilliantly, however, Cattrall’s cameo was essentially her explaining how she would not be cameoing. Samantha’s flight to New York was delayed by three hours – she was “fucking furious” – and so couldn’t, after all, surprise Carrie at the last supper she was holding in her old apartment. Maybe Samantha hadn’t even been to Heathrow. Maybe Samantha just told the driver to circle the block a few times. Maybe that plane took off right on time. Props to Kim for earning an absolute packet for sitting in a cab and wearing a look by the OG stylist Patricia Field. The Annabelle Bronstein reference was also a nice touch.
Samantha’s brief return was a reminder of the spirit and verve of Sex and the City, which And Just Like That … has often missed, putting aside the times it has been downright ridiculous. Not for a second, for instance, would Samantha have allowed laugh-murderer Che Diaz to tell those shitty jokes about Miranda. And at the first sniff of her friend’s sexuality shift she would have dragged her to gay bars galore.
As well as Samantha’s non-return return, a lot happened in last night’s finale, as a lot seems to happen in every episode of And Just Like That ... There are never just a couple of subplots going on. It’s the narrative equivalent of a necklace (a Carrie name one perhaps?) getting tangled in on itself. But this season the show has definitely improved from the monstrosity that was season one, which was heavily dominated by the podcast Carrie co-hosted. The strangest thing was that the writers appeared to have absolutely no clue what a podcast was, or how one worked (there was a scene with a live phone-in) and yet the show’s creator, Michael Patrick King, hosts a real-life podcast dedicated to the show.
Just as Carrie imploded an entire production company by finding it too difficult to say “vagina” on said podcast (not at all in keeping with her sex columnist character), over the past couple of episodes Lisa, an intelligent, documentary award-winning feminist, shied away from using the word “abortion” when considering the pregnancy she and her husband might not want. (She later miscarried, which was treated with all the gravity that one might afford to losing one’s glasses.) It is such a strange decision by the writers to have some of the strongest female characters on TV be coy about female reproductive systems at a time when Roe v Wade has been overturned and women in the US are fighting for their rights.
As for Miranda, hoo boy, has our beloved corporate lawyer been on a ride. At present, she is doing well in her new role at Human Rights Watch, which is great, but what happened to her masters degree? In season one she was lugging books around, but now that Nya’s character has been established away from Columbia, Miranda’s studies have disappeared. In this last episode, Miranda is very excited to do a spot on the BBC. I mean, Miranda is stoked. It’s as if she has never heard of Jimmy Savile or Richard Sharp, the former BBC chair. She also has a new potential love interest in the form of a Beeb producer, who is almost certainly funnier than Che, because literally everyone is funnier than Che. That Miranda turned into an entirely different person last season is even weirder, given Cynthia Nixon is a director and executive producer. Actual Miranda would never have taken her eye off the ball in such a manner.
At his new Coney Island bar, Steve and Miranda call a truce, watched from a distance by their son Brady, who may or may not still be schtupping Charlotte’s daughter, Lily (we don’t know, because it has never been mentioned since). It is possible that Lily “treated” Brady to an acoustic rendition of her original composition The Power of Privilege and he instantly deleted her number. As for Miranda’s other ex, I’m so sorry, but we must address them in greater detail.
Ever since the debut of Che Diaz – singularly the least likable and most absurd character ever written – the one redeeming factor has been the memes, which are just too good. The jokes people write on the internet about Che Diaz are vastly superior to the jokes Che Diaz, ostensible comedian, writes. (In fairness, these jokes are written by the AJLT writers for them, which actor Sara Ramirez has pointed out.)
In one recent episode, they were shown watching footage of their old sets, and laughing at their own material, which is something nobody other than Che Diaz has ever done. Why has nobody rocked up to Hudson Yards, sat them down on their broken sofa and just been brutally honest? Anyway, after performing that awful, cruel set about Miranda, Che has a heart-to-heart with their former flamed-haired beau in Carrie’s kitchen. No, I have no idea why Che has been invited to this party, billed as a bash for Carrie’s nearest and dearest. And it’s worse, the other podcast people are also invited, including Jackie, the world’s most annoying man, and his wife “Smoke”. Jackie is a guy who has been airlifted out of a Judd Apatow film, and I can only imagine Samantha’s disgust had she arrived.
Lisette, the downstairs neighbour who is taking over Carrie’s apartment for a song, is, for some reason, also present, flashing her jewellery products which look like cubic zirconia numbers from Accessorise. She also inherits some old bras of Carrie’s from the 80s, before she was born. Lisette has no business being at this dinner. Steve, however, should most definitely have been there. I might add that, given Miranda is staying at Nya’s place in a single bed, in an apartment with a bathroom only accessible via Nya’s bedroom, Carrie might have thought about offering Miranda her place for a while, but for come-full-circle, single-gal plot reasons, Lisette was the chosen one.
Charlotte has recovered from her bender to attend the dinner, with Harry brandishing a new iPhone to replace the one she threw in a pitcher, which is cooed over as if they wouldn’t all have the latest iPhone. Why is Harry going to the Apple store himself? Why do these very wealthy people often exist like peasants? Why is Seema the only one with a driver? (Then again, SJP did rather charmingly give an interview to Howard Stern recently in which she said she still travels on the New York subway .)
There are no work scenes for Charlotte in this episode, which is a shame because we don’t get to hear all the millennials and Gen Zers say “Slay!”, or see any more random cameos from Sam Smith dressed as the entire sky, or spend time with her charming boss Victor Garber, forever the nice engineer from Titanic. As cameos from British pop stars go, Sam Smith’s was as odd as Geri Halliwell’s (in the aforementioned Annabelle Bronstein episode). Charlotte’s re-blossoming in her career has been one of the most successful elements of season two; she’s the only one of the group who – instead of melting into a hot mess – has moved forwards into a better place. And the righteous speech she delivered to Harry about pulling his weight domestically, something women have been expected to do since the dawn of time, was a highlight.
Nya doesn’t do a lot in the finale, but she is elected to the prestigious American Law Institute, which is very impressive. Recovering from her hook-up app sexathon, Nya is reunited with the handsome stranger she met a few episodes before, who just so happens to be the Michelin-starred chef responsible for The Last Supper. I adore that the private school Charlotte and Lisa send their kids to has a raffle in which the prize is dinner by a Michelin-starred chef, and not, say, a giant teddy or a bottle of wine, like most school raffles.
Seema is still loved up with her absurd film director boyfriend, Ravi Gordi, who is so busy taking calls from producers and movie execs, yet somehow has time to spend endless hours on TikTok. Often Ravi is on the phone to people a director would not be speaking to directly, so we get scenes such as him loitering in hallways speaking to the Egyptian film commissioner himself. At the end of the episode, Ravi heads there to film for five months leaving Seema, one of And Just Like That’s strongest new additions and played wonderfully by Sarita Choudhury – bringing a little of the sass and spirit of Samantha – in limbo.
Speaking of limbo: Aidan. Oh, Aidan. At the end of the last episode we saw Aidan in tears because his son drove into a tree. Which admittedly is not ideal. The red flag was hoisted. In the finale, Aidan, who has so far melodramatically refused to enter Carrie’s apartment, resulting in her selling it and moving to a completely new place, swanned in without a care in the world. Then he suggested that Carrie wait for him for five years because his kids needed him at his random farm in Norfolk, Virginia. Look, I am not saying his son, Wyatt, isn’t going through a rough patch. But the boy is verging on 15, so it’s not unusual. The idea that Aidan should cut off contact with Carrie altogether until the boy is 20 (when presumably he would have been in college for two years) rather than, say, y’know, play it by ear, is next-level shithousery. The saving grace for Carrie is that she now won’t have to date a man who wears a jacket that falls somewhere between Nazi commander and BDSM Barbour, and has a Peter Stringfellow haircut.
A third season has already been green-lit, so this intensely watchable car crash with elements of fun, gossipy nostalgia for a time before the real world inched towards a dystopia, will go on. Hopefully, the unbelievable romance between Anthony and his Italian twink boyfriend will not. The character I am most looking forward to seeing more of? Shoe, Carrie’s new kitten. May Shoe be blessed with a strong story arc, incredible outfits and all the luck in love.
