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Let me first say that the new movie version of Sex and the City is sexy fun, delightfully witty and far more enjoyable than I thought it would be. I’m also honest in saying that at a butt-crunching 140minute run time, this movie is too damn long for a romantic comedy. Talky and overlong, it gives meaning to the term endless love, which doesn’t exactly instill goodwill for date moviegoers. Fans of the TV series will still love it, with the best viewings for them enjoyed with like-minded fans. For the rest of us, it will be admired but not loved, with many men actually saying they’ve had too much Sex.

Sex and the City is the big-screen version of the extremely popular HBO series that ran for 94 episodes from 1998-2004, which is based on Candace Bushnell’s novel. Even with cursory knowledge of the show, you know that the series is set in New York City, and revolves around four relationship-challenged women. There is romance self-help writer Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker), Park Avenue princess Charlotte (Kristin Davis), workaholic and often fiery attorney Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), and the eldest but voraciously sexual Samantha (Kim Cattrall).

Essentially a sequel to the TV series, the movie picks up where the show ended four years ago. These urban women are in sturdy relationships with their men – Carrie with Mr. Big a.k.a. John James Preston (Chris Noth), Charlotte with the lovable Harry (Evan Handler), Miranda with the offbeat Steve (David Eigenberg), and Samantha with her younger, handsome beau Smith (Jason Lewis), now living in Los Angeles managing Smith’s career and her own talent management company. The ladies endure cold feet, pregnancy, betrayal and insecurity over the course of a year and each must deal with their own relational issues to grow personally and professionally.

Sex and the City creative force Michael Patrick King writes and directs here, creating what is really a fun (though seemingly less raunchy), extended TV movie. There are little surprises though it retains much of the series’ energetic, witty banter even when veering toward the episodic. Parker (regardless of the camera angle, she still has an oddly rectangular face) centers Sex well with Carrie’s smart instincts, but it’s Cattrall who is the most memorable as the wise-cracking Samantha. Funniest Samantha moment: admonishing Miranda for being a little too hairy in a certain womanly place. In addition, the naturally talented Oscar-winner Jennifer Hudson is warm and likable in a brief role as Carrie’s organized, designer purse renting assistant.

Sex is well-acted by everyone, though Davis has far less to do, with Nixon the best actress of the four, showing range and honest emotion as the betrayed Miranda. The ladies all share a relaxed chemistry, though by now they’re showing their age. Noth does a dutiful turn as Big, though his role is remarkably brief, due mainly to King’s unfocused script that leaves Big and Carrie’s relationship largely unsatisfying.

King’s writing and direction simply works better on TV than here, and it both helps and hurts Sex. His witty script provides the ladies with memorable repartee (a diversion to Mexico is humorous but unnecessary). But too much of a good thing is still too much. Sex’s plot becomes muddled and talky, slowing a potential home run to, in sexual terms, reaching second base.  What worked so efficiently on the small screen is overdone here, and King feels he must neatly resolve all plot elements in TV episode fashion. Without spilling many of Sex’s highly-guarded plot secrets, everything and everyone happily stays intact.

The sights and sounds of New York City are well integrated into Sex, and those attune to fashion should note all the designer names thrown around – Louis Vuitton, Vera Wang, Chanel among them. Also noteworthy is the eclectic soundtrack, including a pensive but haunting version of Auld Lang Syne from Scottish duo The Cast, and the disco-like All Dressed Up in Love, sung with force by Hudson over the end credits.

In terms of production values, Sex and the City is miles ahead of recent mediocre romantic comedies (including Made of Honor).  However, Sex is about 45 minutes too long – an eternity in this genre – and it especially drags in its slow-moving final act. Sex essentially creates its own genre, that of epic (and endless) romantic comedy.

This overlong version could really be the director’s extended DVD edition, which might have fans wondering what will actually be on that DVD. Rest assured, it’ll be a longer length that even Mr. Big might take issue with. Running time notwithstanding, Sex and the City is pleasant summer-time entertainment. But to us non-fans - it’s still too damn long.

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