SEX AND THE CITY 2

What's the view from the hill, Evilbore muslims? Has a fatwa been declared against Sarah Jessica Parker yet?
Some more choice quotes from the Ain't It Cool News review:
SEX AND THE CITY 2 spends roughly half of its 145-minute running time openly mocking Arab traditions, no matter how dated and out of step with the world at large they may be. Is there a place in the world for films that question and defy the terrible ways that women are treated in some regions of the Middle East? Without question.
Kim Cattrall's sexy speak has gone from funny/seductive to creepy. When Samantha overtly comes on to a guy in the movie, and he pretends to respond favorably, you can almost see him choke back the vomit.
There's a scene in which a scantily clad Samantha finds herself picking up the spilled contents of her purse (including loads of condoms) in the middle of a Middle Eastern marketplace. Is it wrong that for the brief moment I thought that the men screaming at and surrounding her might start picking up rocks?
From Ebert's 1-star review:
Some of these people make my skin crawl. The characters of "Sex and the City 2" are flyweight bubbleheads living in a world which rarely requires three sentences in a row. Their defining quality is consuming things. They gobble food, fashion, houses, husbands, children, vitamins and freebies.
Charlotte York (Kristin Davis) has the two little girls she thought she wanted, but now discovers that they actually expect to be raised. Mothers, if you are reading, run this through your head. One little girl dips her hands in strawberry topping and plants two big handprints on your butt. You are on the cell to a girlfriend. How do you report this? You moan and wail out: "My vintage Valentino!" Any mother who wears her vintage Valentino while making muffin topping with her kids should be auled up before the Department of Children and Family Services.
And crotches, have we got crotches for you. Big close-ups of the girls themselves, and some of the bulgers they meet. And they meet some. They meet the Australian world cup team, for example, which seems to have left its cups at home. And then there's the intriguing stranger Samantha meets at the hotel, whose zipper-straining arousal evokes the fury of an offended Arab guest and his wife.
There's an uncomfortable scene in which the girls are menaced by outraged men in a public market, where all they've done is dress in a way more appropriate for a sales reception at Victoria's Secret.
And Ebert's still a horndog, God bless him:
I must confess that while attending the sneak preview with its overwhelmingly female audience, I was gob-smacked by the delightful cleavage on display. Do women wear their lowest-cut frocks for each other?