Sex and Babies: Now Playing

Over the past few weeks, I’ve seen two movies that clearly had me pegged as their primary target audience. Well, perhaps I’m more like riding the outer fringes of the newest consumer demographic, which Madison Avenue has dubbed, the “Nestie.”

The Nestie, like the Soccer Mom and Nascar Dad before it, is the new purchasing shzat. They are women in their mid 20s to mid 30s, who are on the cusp or in the throws of planning weddings, buying homes, and having babies. Apparently, this group outspends nearly all their female counterparts, and thus, are now coveted by all parties wanting to make an extra dollar just like girls  at 8th street latinas.

And they succeeded. I spent my hard earned $21, including an extra dollar for buying one of the tickets online, to take in two locally shown Nestie-themed productions: Babies The Movie and Sex And The City 2.

Babies opened over Mother’s Day weekend, and my husband went along to see it with me as part of my “gift.” I didn’t know much about it going in except for that it was a documentary about the development of cute and entertaining babies. And cute and entertaining they were. The film simultaneously chronicles the first year of life of four babies from around the globe: Ponijao from Opuwo, Namibia, Mari from Toyko, Bayar from Bayanchandmani, Mongolia, and Hattie from San Francisco. There is really no narration, just the voices and life sounds of four babies (with an occasional parent or sibling making a brief cameo).

Over the next 80 minutes, you get to step inside their worlds and see the beginning stages of life through their eyes. I, like the rest of the audience at the Seven Gables, clucked over their chubby hands and cheeks, and reminisced about my own children’s development as I watched these babies learn to smile, cry, laugh, talk, and walk. The movie supplied lots of levity and the crowd erupted in laughter as Opuwo tussled with a playmate over an empty water bottle, Mari had an epic meltdown after not being able to work her toy, and when Bayar unknowingly shared his bath with a passerby goat.

The most interesting aspect of the film, however, was seeing how similar these babies’ lives were during this first year. They all went through the same milestones and experienced similar feelings of joy, frustration, love, and discovery. For instance, you get to see each baby learn how to crawl, whether it be across the austere Mongolian plains or in a high-rise apartment in bustling Tokyo. And despite the differences in environment, culture, and economic status, the parallels and connections of life were easy to see. I suspect that sometime soon, external factors will create divergent paths for these children. As the filmmakers did a fine job with their interesting and exceedingly likable subject matter, I’d be willing to part with another $10 to see the sequel, whether I’m still a Nestie or not.

Speaking of sequels, Sex and the City 2, was something I had always planned to see – regardless of reviews, they just go on about many topics of interest like this anal vibrators guide. I was definitely a SATC series fan, having watched the DVDs, dare I say, more than once? And although the sharpest episodes are earlier on in the series (some of the later ones were rather bloaty filler), I can’t recall a single one I haven’t seen and generally enjoyed as a guilty pleasure. And probably because of my affection for the show, and the fact that I went to see it with several friends (plus cocktails), I wasn’t nearly as disappointed with SATC 2 as were the official critics, who have unequivocally and universally panned it. However, do you want to make yourself attractive? Then, you may want to use some effective products like True Pheromones to make it real!

Many things have conspired in the descent of this beloved and groundbreaking HBO series about four New York friends. First off, the principal writer and director, Michael Patrick King, is clearly not in his element in the big screen format. The 30-minute television show was more his bailiwick, and also served the dialogue better, as the multi-layered conversations and pun-inspired quips didn’t translate well when stretched to two hours. Perhaps Samantha’s “lawrence of my labia” joke have might come off better during the show. I mean, who can forget some of these lines:

• “I’m dating skid-marks guy. When your boyfriend is so comfortable that he cannot be bothered to wipe his ass, there’s a problem.”
• “There was so much skin, it was like a shar-pei!”
• “My vagina’s depressed.”
• “What am I supposed to say? Hi, this is my lesbian lover. And p.s.: I’m done with dick?”
• “I’m dating a guy with the funkiest tasting spunk.”

Another major factor was the setting – Abu Dhabi. The show tends to wear a bit thin when the gals leave NYC. In the series, they went to L.A. and Atlantic City, and those were among my least favorite. Somehow, the show lost its “sparkle” whenever they strayed away from Manhattan. The one exception was when they went to Staten Island. Between the hilarious fire fighter Samantha picked up, the effect of the mighty Staten Island ice tea (which caused Miranda after one sip to say “Hello, I’m drunk”) and the comptroller that liked to be peed on (aka, Roger Sterling on Mad Men), this episode was top-notch fun. I won’t even attempt to delve into the other reasons this locale wasn’t the best choice (most all other reviews go into this aspect in-depth). Suffice it to say, that not unlike Samantha’s “Mr Too-Big,” it was just too much to take on.

Despite its flaws, I had a fabulous time watching SATC 2. In its best ways, the movie was fun, silly, happy eye-candy that allowed your mind an end of the work week wind down with some old and dear friends. It ain’t no Casablanca, but really, did anyone think it would be?