A Lot or a Little?
What you will—and won't—find in this TV show.
Although the show celebrates consumerism, obsessive analysis of relationships, and a flashy lifestyle, it also champions strong and supportive female friendship.
Positive Role Models
Charlotte, Miranda, and Carrie are each moneyed urbanites in their 50s, a type of person that's not depicted frequently on American television. The show's concerns have matured as these characters have, turning from casual sex and romance to friendship, parenting, death, and staying relevant both culturally and in one's career. Miranda in particular has a role-model-worthy career trajectory as she leaves corporate law to use her legal background to do advocacy for marginalized people.
The original show was criticized for being straight, White, and coming from a place of clueless privilege, and the main characters in this reboot are all White, heterosexual, and wealthy as well. Minor characters are diverse, but the representation feels forced, as when Carrie does a podcast with a "queer nonbinary Mexican Irish diva" who says things like "What can I as a straight cis male personally do to eradicate the harmful patriarchal system of the gender binary and compulsory heterosexuality?" There are more characters of color on the show, but the action is still centered on the White main characters, with characters of color in supportive roles without their own agency.
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Violence & Scariness
A main character dies suddenly and shockingly; we see the (bloodless, of natural causes) death and the funeral thereafter. The grief from that death affects the tone and direction of the show from then on.
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Sex, Romance & Nudity
As in the original series, references to sex are graphic and frequent. Expect iffy situations (a mother steps barefoot on her son's used condom after she allows his girlfriend to sleep over), graphic sexual wording ("jerking it"), and many references to the sex lives of characters including masturbation, casual sex, body parts, and more. On-screen, characters discuss dating, kiss, and then fall into bed, kissing; in other scenes, we see characters moving rhythmically and moaning, but body parts are covered by sheets and clothing.
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Language and cursing includes "f--k," "s--t," "hell," as well as words for body parts ("p---y") and sex ("jerking it").
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Products & Purchases
Conspicuous consumption is frequent, if not as front-and-center as in the original. There are references to luxury brands (Barney's, Peloton), images of luxury apartments and cars, designer clothing; a character even seeks an understated "chic" place for a funeral.
Drinking, Drugs & Smoking
Characters drink at parties, get togethers, and at home, clinking wine glasses and ordering cocktails ostentatiously. Characters get expansive and loose after drinking on-screen, but no one gets sloppy or drunk. A side character smokes pot from a pipe in an office building, saying they're "wired" and need to calm down; they then share that pipe with a teenaged character in a later scene. A character is early into a drinking problem and uses alcohol to calm and comfort herself during times of stress; expect her drinking to become a plot point.
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Parents Need to Know
Parents need to know that And Just Like That is a continuation of the characters and storylines of Sex and the City, with the same actors taking on the same central roles. As in the original, sexual talk is frank, with references to body parts, sexual acts, casual sex, and many other sexual topics. Simulated sex scenes show characters moving rhythmically and moaning, kissing, moving their hands suggestively, and more, but body parts are covered by clothing or sheets. Violence is infrequent, but a main character dies, and the impact of that death affects the show's tone and direction. One character drinks to calm and soothe herself, and others drink frequently, too, at parties/gatherings, to celebrate, and to help handle emotional blows. An adult character smokes pot on-screen, including with a 17-year-old boy. Language includes "f--k," "s--t," "hell," "p---y," and more. Conspicuous consumption is 't as front-and-center as in the original, but the characters have luxury apartments, fancy cars, designer clothing, etc. Female friendship is strong and central, and women in their 50s are shown to be vital and sexy. But (like the original) the show still centers wealthy, privileged, straight White characters, with diverse supporting characters mainly commenting on and paying attention to the personal lives of White characters, with little agency of their own. And some of the representation feels forced, as when Carrie does a podcast with a "queer nonbinary Mexican Irish diva."
Is It Any Good?
There are two shows fighting for dominance in this reboot: a restart of the frothy series fans remember (with service to said memories), and one that grasps for the sexy relevance of the original. Only one of the two is good, and whether And Just Like That is painful or pleasurable at any given moment mostly depends on where we're landing. First, the good: Carrie, Miranda, and Charlotte still have chemistry and the actresses haven't lost their comic chops. Watching them quipping around a brunch table once more is like a delightful, if slightly disorienting, dip into pop culture history, and it feels both right and enjoyable to watch these venerable friends going through life's up and downs together again. Moments of fan service range from amusing to ridiculous (the soundtrack actually emits an angelic chord when Carrie first opens the doors to her shoe closet), but TV shows about glamorous, successful women in their 50s are rare on TV and it's interesting to watch this ultimate '90s moneyed gaggle of privileged women struggling a bit in an era when their type of conspicuous consumption has faded from fashion. Their lives, along with those of their fans, are less about sex and romance and more about family and career and their own inner peace or lack thereof, all anchored by a longtime group friendship that's still vital and heartfelt, which And Just Like That reflects in a way that feels genuine and compelling.
On the other hand, beware the scenes that attempt to regain Sex and the City's former status as an agenda-setting show on the leading edge of culture. Whether it's Miranda learning her college classmates' preferred pronouns or Carrie holding down a spot on a podcast that revolves around sexual and gender identity, such scenes feel forced and unnatural, with characters who are types rather than people. At these moments, And Just Like That is a slog. It's true that SATC was rightfully criticized as blithely white/het/privileged, which came off as particularly tone-deaf given the diversity of its writ-out-loud NYC setting. But cramming in complications and characters merely for diversity's sake doesn't work, at least not here. It all adds up to a show that's muddled, but not without its strong points. Fans won't be able to stop themselves from watching, nor should they.
Did we miss something on diversity?
Research shows a connection between kids' healthy self-esteem and positive portrayals in media. That's why we've added a new "Diverse Representations" section to our reviews that will be rolling out on an ongoing basis. You can help us help kids by suggesting a diversity update.