“And Just Like That…” Series Finale Review: Down the Toilet

And just like that, it was over. The “Sex and the City” franchise, which has spanned two TV shows and two movies, and brought countless hours of required viewing to fashionistas in New York and across the globe, has officially fizzled out with the uneventful and unappealing series finale of “And Just Like That...” The episode ultimately epitomizes many of the problems with the reboot as a whole while continuing to disappoint those who long for the aspirational Carrie Bradshaw of the original series.

In the series finale, Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) sees her story come to a head as she faces the same decision as the main character in the novel she’s writing: whether or not to be content with living alone. One final attempt at a set-up by Charlotte (Kristin Davis) proves to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and as Carrie’s circle of friends renew their various relationships, she ultimately chooses to invest in herself.

“And Just Like That…” has been problematic for critics since the beginning, taking a far more bleak view of love, gender roles, and changing sexual mores than that of “Sex and the City,” which charmed viewers with its larger-than-life antics and optimistic view of relationships in the big city. On top of that, “And Just Like That” has a bad habit of engaging in gratuitous virtue signaling and heavy handed attempts at diversifying the show’s subject matter.

Many of these issues can be traced back to one source: the absence of Kim Cattrall as Samantha Jones. Pundits accurately predicted that Cattrall’s absence would mean the removal of “sex” from “Sex and the City,” and that hypothesis is borne out by the series finale. In fact, the only two times in the episode where characters are shown in states of undress is when they are using the bathroom. The second of these scenes, in which Mark Kasabian (Victor Garber) watches feces bubble up from a clogged toilet, is perhaps one of the more egregious images ever shown on a sitcom, and a disappointment to fans who have come to expect a certain level of glamour from the “Sex and the City” brand.

Parker’s portrayal of Carrie Bradshaw is so charismatic and indelible that the viewer can’t help but care what happens to her, and seeing her dance for joy in the final moments of the episode sent chills down this reviewer’s spine. However, the writers’ ultimate choice to have Carrie completely abandon her quest for love feels less liberating and more like a fundamental betrayal of one of America’s most iconic leading ladies.

Throughout the episode, the show’s stars deliver Michael Patrick King and Susan Fales-Hill’s wooden dialogue with a resignation which suggests that the end can’t come soon enough. In one scene, Carrie, Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), Seema (Sarita Chowdhury), Charlotte, and Lisa (Nicole Ari Parker), the girl group at the center of the reboot, are watching a wedding-themed fashion show. Midway through, Lisa turns to Charlotte and proclaims: “Someone has to tell these women that marriage is way more than the gorgeous dress. It’s about confusion, not knowing how to help, and holding your tongue.” Even though the two end up deciding that marriage is worth the pain, this embittered perspective represents the general lack of love present in the episode, both philosophically and between any of the show’s longstanding couples.

Miranda and Joy (Dolly Wells), Lisa and Herbert (Christopher Jackson), and Anthony (Mario Cantone) and Giuseppe (Sebastiano Pigazzi) ultimately sort out their problems by the end of the episode, but their reconciliations are largely told in rushed and cliched terms. Lisa and Herbert, for instance, who have been drifting apart ever since he lost the comptroller election, finally make up via a tearful re-affirmation of their wedding vows. While the couples that are new to the reboot may shine slightly brighter, it is only because familiarity breeds contempt, and viewers are smart enough to know that the Charlotte and Harry (Evan Handler) of “And Just Like That” bear no relationship to the delightful pairing of the original series.

One of the major missteps of “And Just Like That…” is its thoroughly condescending attitude toward anything from after the 1990s. King and Fales-Hill depict the three Gen Z characters in the finale, named Epcot, Mia, and Silvio, as offensive caricatures of themselves, and they mock the use of modern technology in a Chinese restaurant in the show’s opening scene. This is not to mention Charlotte’s non-binary child, Rock (Alexa Swinton), whose character development throughout the season is devoted to a move-away from their LGBTQ+ identity. While King and Fales-Hill may be attempting to play to the same audience who originally loved the show with these jokes, they effectively alienate the show’s younger viewers and demonstrate a remarkable ignorance about how today’s young people live their lives.

“Sex and the City” was always at the vanguard of fashion trends and gender equality. “And Just Like That…” made a conscious choice to stay stuck in the past, and there it will most likely remain.