There once was some Sex and a City

This saga of stylish New Yorkers

Produced one film that was a corker

It made tons of money

And was pretty funny

But the sequel is more of a forker

Forker, as in "stick a fork in this franchise, it's done." Sex and the City 2 isn't the worst movie you've ever seen; frankly, it's not even as bad as the critics would have you believe. But it is almost completely irrelevant, and that's what kills it.

Over six seasons of the actual series, the stories of Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda were pretty well wrapped up, but the first film did a surprisingly skillful job of creating a next chapter that felt organic and important. The sequel is not that. Having brought their characters' story arcs to a fairly natural close, what else can you do to showcase their fabulous clothes? Send 'em on vacation, I guess.

Just that idea isn't necessarily a movie-killer, but where they go and how they do it comes close. Aside from the, um, let's say uncharitable viewpoint of the Middle East that the movie espouses, the real problem is that they're in Abu Dhabi at all. While the lead actresses get top billing, the City of Manhattan's a living, breathing co-star. Putting them at a seven-star resort, while allowing the filmmakers to live out their Bollywood fantasies, does take some of the teeth out of the proceedings.

There's a faint framing story about Carrie feeling a little too settled in her marriage, but the stakes never feel very high. The other husbands and boyfriends make token appearances, but there's no drama there either. Overall, the whole thing feels incredibly slight – bright and colorful with some fun to be found, but nothing that makes any impact once the credits roll. Which takes an incredibly long time, btw – this romp clocks in at almost two-and-a-half hours. The first film was similarly a bit bloated, but as they were trying to shove in complete stories for four characters, it was allowable. Here, when a lot of the movie boils down to "Balenciagas vs. Burquas" jokes, it seems somewhat indulgent.

Speaking of indulgence, there are two musical numbers too many. They're kind of indicative of the overall problem – it's one thing to see these women striving to succeed in the urban jungle of New York, but it's another thing to watch them wallow in decadence and opulence just for the hell of it. The sequel's tagline is "Carry On," but I fear that this movie may prevent that. It hasn't been well-received by critics or fans, and frankly hasn't made much money. And in any City, from Manhattan to Hollywood or even Abu Dhabi, that just might be the kiss of death.

Which is too bad, really – what began as the defining voice of a generation of women might go out on a note as ethereal as a champagne bubble.