Recap: Carrie is pantless in her apartment, busily packing for her imminent, ill-thought-out move to Paris. She hits play on her answering machine and listens to a message from Misha, who jokingly tells her to stop packing 'cause there are clothes in Paris. He wishes her a safe flight and that he'll see her tomorrow. She's then startled by the next message on the queue: Big informing her that he's in town and wants to see her. She retorts by hitting delete. That evening, Carrie leaves her apartment decked out in a flouncy pink dress...and is aghast when she notices Big's black car parked out front. He rolls down the passenger window and tells her he wants to talk, and she glances around anxiously and says she's on her way to dinner with the gigolas...but after a few seconds of hemming and hawing, she agrees to a short chat and climbs into the back seat. She half-heartedly apologizes for not returning his many calls 'cause of how busy she's been with "stuff" ... and when he tries to apologize for acting like his typical douchebag self during the Domino Effect episode, she cuts him off and assures him, "It's all fine". Stupefied by her breeziness, he invites her out for dinner tomorrow night, but she declines and says she's jetting off to Paris in a few hours to shack up with the rich Russian artist who's currently boning her. Big raises his brows and quips, "You're moving to France with a Ruskie?" and Carrie haughtily exits the car and angrily accuses him of always swooping into her life at the most inopportune times to shit all over her happiness. Big retorts, "I made a mistake. You and I -" and Carrie shrieks, "You and I - nothing!!" and admonishes him for jerking her around for the past six seasons. She screeches at him to forget he knows her - and her name! - and that after tonight he can drive past her brownstone all he wants, then loudly screeches, "Because I don't livvvvvvve here anymore!!" As she totteringly breaks into a run on her stupid stilettos, Big stares after her with a dumbfounded look on his big dumb face. During dinner with the gigolas, Carrie bitches about Big's contrived reappearance in the two-part series finale - but Charlotte looks intrigued and thinks that Big might have indirectly, inadvertently implied that he might possibly love her. Carrie says she's done with his mindfuckery and is most upset that he ruined her last night in New York, then blurts out, "Fuck him!" and reminds the gigolas that she doesn't normally throw f-bombs around. She then switches gears and thanks them for wishing her well on her upcoming Parisian adventure, then says she had a thought today: "What if I had never met you?" Egads! The four tear up at the thought of how different their lives would be had viewers not been tortured with six sluttastic HBO seasons of brunch summits that chronicled their sexploitive relationship angsts, despite insisting in every fucking episode that they're independent career women who only need men for clitoral pleasure. As they sniff into their hankies, Samantha changes the subject and says that her chemo treatments have kicked her into early menopause and that she's having frequent, insanely hot hot flashes. Carrie heads back to her apartment, where she changes into an unspeakably fugly blue outfit with fugly competing geometric patterns. Yeesh. When the airport shuttle service calls to let her know that a car will be at her place asap, she fishes her Carrie necklace out of her jewelry box and leaves her apartment for the last time...and by the last time, I mean for the two week period it's going to take for it to sink in that quitting her high paying raunch column job and moving to Paris with someone she barely knows and has zero chemistry with was an idiotic mistake of gargantuan proportion. Samantha is at a breast cancer benefit planning meeting. She's sweaty, bored, and chides the committee's tired old idea of offering "that fucking breast cancer cookie" instead of giving the suffering women something more inspirational to latch onto. The chairwoman agrees, then promptly ropes Samantha into making an inspirational speech before introducing her. Samantha's all, "Wha-a-a?" and looks less than thrilled by the task. Carrie, who's decked out in her fugly blue outfit topped off with a stupid blue hat, arrives in Paris and her cab drops her off at the fancy hotel she'll be living in with Misha. She checks in with the front desk, needlessly identifies herself as a New Yorker, and is told that Misha is currently hanging in the salon. Carrie sashays across the lobby and looks put off when she sees Misha sitting cozily with a cigarette puffing young woman, his arm lazily draped over her shoulders. When Misha spots her, he cries, "Carrie!" and introduces her to his daughter, Chloe...and Carrie perks up at the word daughter and squeals, "Oooh!" and greets Chloe in some carefully practiced sounding French. When Chloe rattles something off (in French), Carrie scrunches her horsey face confusedly and says she didn't grasp much from that 'cause she's still learning the language. Misha translates that Chloe is having a bad day 'cause of boyfriend troubles, and Carrie giddily says that all things sex-related is her department, then adds, "Tell me about the bum." Chloe responds by shooting her a hostile stink-eye for several seconds (!), then abruptly changes the subject and asks Carrie if this is her first trip to Paris. Carrie says it is, and that she got super excited at her first sighting of the Eiffel Tower. Chloe makes a blech face and says the Eiffel Tower light show at night is "hideous, just hideous" and Carrie's horsey face falls as she murmurs, "Oooh..." Misha then tells her that the only time Chloe is able spend with him is a few hours this afternoon, so Carrie offers to leave them to their visit while she goes up to their room, unpacks, and takes a nap. Misha then informs her that he has an early dinner with the museum people, but that he can meet up with her later. Carrie is escorted to hers and Misha's room by a bellboy...and after she tips him, she looks around the lovely decor in fascination. She steps out onto the balcony and squeals gleefully when she spots the Eiffel Tower, and jumps up and down while clapping. Ten hours later, Carrie is decked out in an insanely voluminous feathery green gown and stares out the window, looking wistful as she waits for Misha to show up. Back in New York, Harry and Charlotte are going over their application for private adoption. When Harry complains about the competitiveness of the adoption market, Charlotte assures him that surely God will send them a baby from some remote corner of the world. Late that evening, Misha returns to the hotel room and finds Carrie asleep - still clad in her monstrous feathery gown. He pokes her awake and explains that the museum dinner thing turned into a long drawn out thing with various sponsors, blah blah. She poutishly asks him why he didn't call, and he says he did, but that she had put a do not disturb thing on her phone to prevent it from ringing and interrupting her nap. The two start smooching, then get amorous as he tries to find his way beneath her dress's many feathery layers...and, nope, still no chemistry there. Samantha is clad in her bra and panties as she reads aloud her breast cancer speech to Smith. He looks unimpressed, calls it stiff, and says he was hoping it'd sound more like her: crass and unfiltered. He then tells her that the best testimonials at AA are from people "who keep it real". After a week in Paris, Carrie feels confident enough to brave the ultimate test for a vapid ex-raunch columnist: spend the day shopping at Dior. On her way inside, she slips on her heel, takes a painful looking belly-flop spill across the floor, then scoops up everything that went flying out of her purse. Bwahaha! Carrie returns to the hotel with many shopping bags - and Misha refrains from asking her how in blazes she has money for all of this French designer wear, considering she no longer has a job or any prospects for a job. He's on the phone with someone about something museum related, and is unable to help Carrie deal with her newly contrived crisis: her Carrie necklace has suddenly gone missing. Egads! Carrie wanders the streets of Paris with sadness etched across her face. She peeks into a restaurant window and sees four friends indulging in a French brunch summit, chatting and giggling the way she and the gigolas used to. Eventually they notice her staring longingly at them and look wigged out by her horsey-faced mopiness...and she beats a hasty retreat. Miranda is feeding breakfast to Brady when she gets a call from Carrie, who moans about losing her Carrie necklace, and that Parisians don't seem to appreciate her brand of skankitude. Miranda barks, "Come home!" and Carrie says she just arrived...then concedes that abruptly moving to a foreign country she's never even been to before isn't as easy as she thought it'd be, and that she feels "sort of lost". She then confides something in Miranda that will be important to the finale's contrived plot twist: she can't stop thinking about Big, and what it would be like to be in Paris with Big [instead of a dour Russian with whom she has zero chemistry]. A few seconds after that reveal, Carrie runs out of change for the overseas call and is disconnected. Samantha gives her "inspirational" speech to a roomful of breast cancer survivors - but sweat is pouring down her face to the point of ridiculousness, and her speech is too stiff and generic to be of much inspiration to anyone. Eventually she throws in the towel on enduring her hot flash and is all, "Ah fuck it!" and rips off her wig. The audience is all, "Wha-a-a?" but then every cancer survivor in the room who's donning a wig does the same and gives Samantha a standing ovation. Charlotte stops by Carrie's apartment to collect her mail and glance around wistfully. The phone happens to ring at that exact moment...and it's Big, who declares via phone to Carrie: "I love you." Charlotte perks up and hastily picks up the phone. In the next scene, Big arrives at a diner to meet with the gigolas. He ignores the stink-eyes he gets from Samantha and Miranda and openly admits to royally fucking things up with Carrie on numerous occasions. He then says he really does love the unclassy skank, and if they think he has even the slightest chance to kick-start a relationship with her before the final credits roll, they need to speak up now. The gigolas glance at each other for a few seconds before Miranda leans over to him and commands him, "Go get our girl." Fuuuuuuuck. Carrie is wearing a strapless feather top while she and Misha hang out in a fancy Parisian bar. He surprises her with a stunning diamond necklace to replace the Carrie necklace she lost, then kisses her and apologizes for being so busy with museum stuff. A few seconds later, Misha's best friend Andre and his lady happen to enter the bar, spot Misha, and join them at their table. The three start nattering away in French and are oblivious to an uncomprehending Carrie, who looks visibly uncomfortable and touches her new diamond necklace as if to find some sort of reassurance that moving to Paris wasn't the most boneheaded decision she's ever made in her life. Thanks for reading! If you are enjoying TVofYore's recaps, consider thanking me by buying me a "coffee"!
1 Comment
Lara
10/5/2019 04:41:15 am
Six seasons to build up the suspicion that Carrie has no internal resources, no capacity for appreciating anything outside of herself, no real interests or personality... and then it gets utterly confirmed in these final episodes so hard. She's so utterly pathetic. A week and she's done? With all the museums? All of them? That's barely enough time to get started with just the Louvre! And I'm no artist, just a person. She doesn't have anything to read? She doesn't have any curiosity? Any desire to explore? Any interest in anything that doesn't have a designer label? This woman is PATHETIC. (Did she ever read a book in the entire series that WASN'T at the behest of a man?) Take her away from the audience to her man-related dramas that she calls her friends and force her to rely on herself and she has nothing. An empty shell. Like Miranda on the honeymoon a few episodes back but on a terrifyingly larger scale.
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