I am strong. I am invincible. I am woman. And, I am Muslim.
Why Sex and the City 2 failed me.
I have always identified myself 1/4 part Samantha because I am not scared to take risks, I live large and I work in PR, ¼ part Carrie because I am a reader and writer and a hopeless romantic, ¼ part Charlotte because I still can be annoyingly naive and look for the best in people and situations; a cup half full person, ¼ part Miranda because I am a type A control freak. Admit it, haven’t we all tried to find some part of ourselves in our SATC lady heros?
So, when an invite to the Canadian premiere and after party arrived in my in-box I jumped for joy and knew instantly that whatever it took, I would be there. On the big night, I took a guilt free break from an unusually stressful month and my two young children. Rushing to leave the house, I gave a peck on the cheek to my Mr. Big of 7 years ; a man who actually watched SATC on his own before me and one the reasons I knew he was the one for me , air high fived my 2.5 year old and avoided eye contact at all costs with my five month old baby who is not really fond of her mommy running out on her.
In need of some much needed girl time; I raced downtown with a strategically mapped route to meet my BFF and rushed up the escalator stairs to the theatre. The film started 30 minutes late but no one complained instead the women in the audience waited patiently in anticipation reapplying lip gloss and taking pictures. The MC for the night remarked how she had never seen a better dressed crowd at a promo screening for a film. It’s true. I shamelessly obsessed over my personal wardrobe issues for over a week but in the end had to succumb to wearing something without the awful stench of spit-up attached to it. I did manage to accessorize in glittery golds and even broke out the twice a year eyeshadow for this grand event.
Cut to the opening shot. Empire State building. Que one of my favourite songs de jour: Alicia Key’s Streets of New York. I am jittery of excitement. Grinning ear to ear. And, since there is no one sitting directly in front of me so I take off my shoes and lounge out my legs up against in the chair. Score. This is going to a great night. Screw the reviews, I can turn off and escape into someone’s else story and drama and laugh my troubles away.
30 minutes in I am starting to feel off. 45 minutes I am really uncomfortable. The movie got the tone of a two year marriage who wants to keep the sparkle going right. It got the ”Of course I love my children but they drive me crazy,” motherhood part right. It got the whole Muslim women thing wrong. Seriously wrong. The clothes may not have been clashing but the ignorance surely was.
The scene where the girls discuss how a fully veiled woman in the hotel terrace wearing a niqab is going to eat a French fry made me want to take that same fry and turn it into a sack of potatoes and aim at the screen.
Relax, don’t be a party pooper. It’s just a fun movie and doesn’t mean anything, right? I really tried to just to turn off that side of me and just enjoy the eye candy and fun element of the movie but the experience was ruined but I couldn’t dare admit it out loud. At the after-party of the premiere, every time someone I small talked with I pretended to like it but at the back of my mind, I feel disheartened. Disappointed.
The producers and writers got mixed up between Middle eastern women who are in fact not all Muslim and Punjabi woman. Surely, there must have been some kind of expert or professor who was consulted on this film but in trying to get it right, it failed miserably further setting us back in time. The broad sweeping over-generalizations and it’s just not funny stereotypes are simply dated and inappropriate.
It’s time to move past these notions and recognize Muslim women and Muslims as a whole are a diverse pluralistic bunch. Tolerant, peaceful, loving and yes, even fabulous and fashionable. The best hand bags and shoes are indeed worn by women who choose (note the word choose) to be covered. Majority of Muslim women are not forced to cover themselves and the film did a disservice by misrepresentating the women of UAE, the Middle East and the rest of the world through its’ blanket stereotyping.
To me the SATC quartet represent female solidarity, friendship and strength at the very core. The foursome were always destined to be great in New York City and by being ignorant in Abu Dhabi for majority of this sequel, the film sabotaged the original greatness and integrity of the girls. And, no amount of Dior, Prada or vintage Rolex can make up for it. I have always regarded my SATC girls as just not fashionable and sassy but loving and savvy and most of all intelligent forward thinking women. Instead, they appeared foolish and racist and completely in a bubble for most of this film.
I am now fantasizing that the Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte I have respected and loved for so long and even considered through the blurry line of television my Versace wearing girlfriends would cheer me on and sing in an obnoxious but gleeful and united karoke style:
I am strong (strong). I am invincible (invincible). I am woman. And, I happen to be a Muslim.
