No brave viewer of And Just Like That…‘s season-three premiere has likely recovered from the repulsive phone sex between Aidan Shaw (John Corbett) and Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker). It’s mortifying to witness him stumble his way through an orgasm with a loud “Here it comes,” while his girlfriend becomes increasingly detached from the experience. Carrie can barely muster a half-hearted “Yeah” and a sigh during the conversation as Aidan pleasures himself on the other end of the line, too busy to realize how ridiculous he sounds. She fakes her way through it, a decision that’s compounded by her cat jumping on the bed. (Poor Shoe had no idea what he signed up for.) And Carrie didn’t even see him lick his fingers. That sight was just for us, the audience, with Aidan going about the whole act in the least inviting way possible. Then again, this all fits into a disappointing AJLT pattern.
For a sequel to HBO’s trendsetting Sex And The City, the Max reboot still hasn’t figured out how to incorporate sex as organically into the story. Most physically intimate moments between characters are either mechanical or cringeworthy, put together for the sake of heightened drama rather than, in a more SATC fashion, to spark fascinating and provocative conversations. Don’t we yearn for the days when Samantha‘s (Kim Cattrall) comment on funky-tasting spunk led to a candid discussion on oral sex, or when Miranda’s (Cynthia) purchase of a vibrator pushed her friends into splurging, too? At least SATC fueled its narrative through the four protagonists’ respective dating lives, whether embarrassing or titillating. AJLT‘s writers, on the other hand, struggle to find that sweet spot between humor and sensuality.
The foundation for AJLT‘s sex scenes is laid early on in season one, when Miranda hooks up with Carrie’s boss, the comedian Che (Sara Ramírez). The two don’t care that they’re pawing at each other in Carrie’s apartment, where Miranda is supposed to be taking care of her ailing friend. It’s unbearably awkward to watch Che fondle Miranda because there’s no chemistry, so any horniness between them feels disingenuous. Nixon, unfortunately, makes her character’s moans sound like she’s in deep distress and not experiencing what Miranda claims is “the best feeling I’ve ever had in my life.” This significant event of Miranda’s late-stage awakening plays as a joke, partly because a sleeping Carrie wakes up to the sound of Miranda’s whimpers and then she promptly urinates in an empty Snapple bottle. (That said, it’s hard not to praise Charlotte’s befuddled “A finger made you feel alive?” to Miranda when this incident is brought up later.)
Carrie, Charlotte, and Miranda go on new emotional journeys in their mid-fifties here, but the show doesn’t examine their carnal urges with any nuance. AJLT follows this pattern with other characters too, including the independent Seema (Sarita Choudhury), happily married Lisa Todd-Wexley (Nicole Ari Parker), and even the ladies’ longtime pal Anthony (Mario Cantone). And speaking of him, a montage in the season-two finale is particularly difficult to watch because of the discomfort on Anthony’s face while losing his “ass virginity” after giving into his partner’s pleas. An important arc about his vulnerability and anxiety ends with what lookslike a sexual act he did not enjoy.
The third-season premiere, “Outlook Good,” adds to a growing list with Aidan’s nauseating initiation of phone sex. Drunk and aroused, he dials his girlfriend and eventually says, “Be me, for me” in trying to get Carrie to touch herself. And he utters this without a hint of romance or eroticism. (This is odd because at least SATC‘s version of Aidan knew how to get her going.) Then, after accidentally beeping his car’s horn, he confesses that he “might’ve shit his pants a little” but that’s okay because what they’re doing “is so fucking hot.” Carrie is too polite to give him a reality check and make him stop. The best she can do is relay a disassociated “Oh, my goodness.” (After all, she revealed her stance on the act in the original show’s sixth season after receiving a call from Mr. Big.)
Another issue with the pitiful romp in “Outlook Good” is that it undermines Carrie and Aidan’s entire previous dynamic. In this episode, Carrie admits to Charlotte and Miranda that the couple’s sex life is the most honest thing about them. And they’ve got a lengthy history from SATC to prove it (including the forbidden kiss in 2010’s Sex And The City 2). If the goal is to be purposely weird to mirror the uncertain status of Carrie and Aiden’s relationship now, AJLT pushes it too far. It’s a bummer that when it comes to real intimacy, this series is stuck in “let’s wash our eyeballs immediately” territory instead of just growing up.
