Mr. Big or Aidan? The cornelian dilemma of the series Sex and the City inspired an essay at the start of the year, Mister Big or the glorification of toxic loves, to the author India Desjardins. The same question – Carrie Bradshaw’s chronicles were rife with questions – rested on my Facebook feed back in the spring, when it was announced that Aidan’s character could possibly be a sequel to the series.
To my surprise, several of my Facebook friends (especially friends) took the opportunity to say how bad they feel about the character played by John Corbett. Indolent, soporific, limp like her white knitted sweater. Quite the opposite of Mr. Big (Chris Noth), who does big business in his power suit multimillionaire.
I was a fan of Sex and the City, a daring, captivating and witty series on the happiness and unhappiness of being a woman. An eloquent manifesto, in its own way, on female emancipation at the turn of the century. Who said a man was too obtuse to appreciate the intricacies of Miranda’s sardonic humor, Samantha’s salacious words, Carrie’s missteps, and Charlotte’s undying candor?
The brilliant and sparkling series, inspired by the chronicles and successful books of Candace Bushnell, at the end of the 90s laid the groundwork for a less strained TV, a thousand leagues from clean dialogues, formatted for American generalist channels, sitcoms popular from the time of Friends and of Seinfeld. Before Sex and the City and the HBO revolution, we never heard the word “fuck” on American television, let alone its illustration on the screen.
Carrie and her friends helped inject a healthy dose of realism into the small screen. Samantha Jones appeared as an unrepentant man-eater and feminism presented itself in new tinsel. It was a breath of fresh air and an instant hit.
Unfortunately, the two films inspired by the series were absolutely null, as a New York lawyer would say. The first, in 2008, was a bad dream of a princess waiting for her wealthier-than-charming prince in her Vivienne Westwood wedding dress. An orgy of rags for middle-class people in their forties disguised as a film script. An ostentatious product placement operation coupled with a shameless ode to consumerism.
Things did not improve two years later for the heartbreaking and cartoonish sequel, set in the new capital of opulence, Abu Dhabi. The characters I had loved so much on TV had become in the cinema unrecognizable, disembodied, vain, superficial and materialistic. No more caustic humor, delicious misunderstandings and the feminist plot. Lost in the desert the cynicism of Miranda, the involuntary humor of Charlotte, the sexual appetite of Samantha and the tragicomic reflections of Carrie.
Needless to say, I fear the worst for the future … Especially since Samantha, the most earthy, sassy and lewd character of this gang of four, is with absent subscribers.
Sex and the City was first and foremost a series about friendship. But the quest for true love was always present in the background. At the heart of Carrie Bradshaw’s quest from start to finish (and even in the movies) was the dark and elusive Mr. Big, ten years her senior – he nicknamed her “Kid” – unable to sidestep her. ‘hire, who had ended up marrying another, half her age, after just a few months of dating. A real prince charming …
PHOTO PROVIDED BY HBO
Mr. Big (Chris Noth)
And yet, between him and Aidan, who broke up with Carrie because she was cheating on him with Mr. Big, it is the latter who is clearly the favorite of my circle of friends on Facebook (according to an absolutely unscientific poll) . Because he seems inaccessible, has a driver, a well-stocked bank account, and wears impeccable suits?
Mr. Big is, however, less stupid and vulgar, a pseudo-Donald Trump with brown hair. An alpha male of triumphant capitalism, in all his glory.
While Aidan is more of a modest furniture craftsman who loves nature. On Facebook last spring, several friends pointed out how “nice” Aidan was, which clearly wasn’t a compliment to them. “ Nice guys finish last As they say on Wall Street.
“He might have been soft, but at least he wasn’t the toxic, paternalistic, disengaged archetype of masculinity that Mr. Big was!” I wrote on Facebook, echoing India Desjardins’ essay and clearly showing myself in favor of #TeamAidan. I was a little alone on my side …
People will tell me, probably rightly, that I do not understand anything about male sex appeal. That Aidan’s greasy hair was not the most delicious, that it was belly, that under his baba-cool air was hiding a capricious man. Perhaps (especially at the start of the series). But at least he was a good guy!
I admit having a hard time understanding why some women care about older men, just because they are wealthy and influential. “Is it worse than men who are interested in women just because they are beautiful and younger?” A friend asked me, aptly this week.
Mr. Big was the man Carrie Bradshaw, herself a monument of narcissism – for all her qualities – deserved. But at a time when kindness and benevolence are not popular, don’t we underestimate the attractiveness of the good guy?