And just as swiftly as that... I find myself wholeheartedly embracing Carrie's journey this season in its entirety. Have I been lulled into acceptance by ten episodes brimming with moments that border on sheer absurdity? Perhaps. But I confess, my fondness for romantic comedies knows no bounds, and I am as open to elevator makeouts as any fairy tale ending. Given the show's inexplicable hesitation to deliver Miranda's grand Cleveland moment after hyping it up for an entire episode, I'm genuinely relieved to witness it not fall short here. Let me clarify: I'm referring specifically to Carrie's narrative thread—Miranda's storyline remains as wild as ever.
"Seeing the Light" serves as a fitting moniker for this season finale, capping off a journey where the Widow Bradshaw has valiantly navigated her profound sorrow. She's hinted at glimmers of hope before; she's caught sight of those flickers. In this episode, those sparks transform into a beacon. It's not that she'll ever shed her grief or heartbreak entirely, but now, she—and we alongside her!—glimpse something beyond the melancholy. Enter Franklyn, the smoking-hot podcast producer who's been patiently awaiting his moment behind that glass all season, ready to sweep Carrie off her feet, or at the very least, engage in some elevator PDA.
I'm well aware of your thoughts: What about Peter? Carrie and Peter embark on a date that she later describes to Seema as both charming and quirky. He walks her home, and as their conversation winds down, he expresses his desire to kiss her, asking for her permission. She nods in agreement, and they share a tender, gentle kiss, ending an evening they both deemed not half bad for "two heartbroken souls." While it was lovely, and Peter is genuinely kind, Carrie craved more spark than a "contract" of lips could provide. No surprises there. Perhaps Peter isn't the one for her (at least not now), but I'm glad her first foray into dating was with someone who understood her emotional landscape. They should certainly remain friends, shouldn't they? After all, you don't just let a head of hair like that slip away, do you?
With that bold step forward, Carrie finds herself confronting the one-year anniversary of Big's passing. If you had told me it had been a decade, I'd have believed you. But alas, it's been just a year! During this time, she meets Big's brother Richard for lunch, and his casual question about "Where's John?" left me speechless. Carrie's initial response was to assume Richard had dementia, forgetting Big was deceased. I'm at a loss for words. I need strong scent to revive me. To most, it was obvious Richard was inquiring about Big's ashes. He wanted to know where his brother's final resting place would be, suggesting the family crypt. There's even room for Carrie, which is thoughtful yet eerily unsettling. She declines politely, saying she needs time to figure out where Big would have wanted to be laid to rest.
Grateful for a malfunctioning reading light that deceives Carrie into believing Big is communicating with her through another glow (a reference subtly hinted at by the episode's title), and entranced by a mesmerizing dream accompanied by the haunting melody of "Hello, It’s Me," Carrie comes to a profound realization: Big would have cherished being tossed into the Seine, precisely at the Parisian bridge where their heartwarming reunion took place in the Sex and the City finale. Now, I'm unsure about the French populace's sentiment regarding such an act, but hey, why not indulge in a bit of dramatic flair? Determined, Carrie ventures to that iconic bridge solo, donning an eye-catching orange gown as she bids farewell. Despite our playful jests, Sarah Jessica Parker delivers a heartfelt, stunningly dramatic performance here.
Her journey to Paris signifies the closing of one chapter. Carrie has navigated the first year without the love of her life with resilience. But hold on! There's another dimension to Carrie's Parisian growth: After sharing a kiss with Peter, she texts Samantha, initiating their longest text conversation yet. Carrie inquires about talking, to which Samantha replies, “soon.” In Paris, she reaches out again, suggesting a drink. Samantha proposes the next night, to which Carrie enthusiastically responds, “FABULOUS.” Though the pretext for Samantha's absence seemed frivolous and somewhat disrespectful to her character, it doesn't detract from this warm, heartening moment. I was genuinely touched! Yet, it all feels like an enticing teaser. And Just Like That… desperately needs Samantha; mere texts, no matter how promising they hint at an off-screen reunion, simply aren't enough.
Having found a semblance of closure in Paris, Carrie returns to NYC, ready to embark on a new venture. Indeed, more change is afoot. Che Diaz announces their relocation to Los Angeles, aiming to become "the next Roseanne" or some such thing. Meanwhile, the ever-charming podcast producer Franklyn suggests to Carrie that she launch her own podcast, where she dishes out relationship advice while taking live calls. He expresses his desire to produce it, noting that he's watched her evolve—in a non-creepy, handsomely intended way, of course. Lo and behold, this new podcast bears the iconic name Sex and the City! The inaugural episode goes rather smoothly, prompting Carrie to express her gratitude to Franklyn for being her pillar of support. As they step into an elevator together, their lips can't resist the allure of each other's, marking the surprise Carrie had been anticipating. Whether And Just Like That… secures a second season remains to be seen, but if it does, this development certainly sets a promising tone.
Alright, alright, let's delve into the world of Miranda and Che Diaz, whether I like it or not! It's all for you guys, okay? Just keep that in mind. Miranda is buzzing with excitement because Che Diaz has invited her to meet his family—but this is no ordinary family gathering. Oh no, this is more like a "Surprise! Meet my entire family and friends, and by the way, I, Che Diaz, am breaking the news that I'm off to Los Angeles to shoot a TV pilot through a Beach Boys cover" kind of shindig. Expect phrases like "Hollywood's calling, bitches!" and boasts like "They're talking next Roseanne over here, but the good one from the '80s," and even "What can I say? I'm a narcissist, dammit!" if you're curious about the party's vibe.
For a fleeting moment, Miranda looks hurt and puzzled until Che reveals that he wants her to join them. Not surprisingly, she agrees to go, without a hint of discussion with anyone. She even passed up a high-profile human rights internship just to travel with him. Nya puts up a halfhearted protest, but backs down instantly when Miranda claims she's following her heart. Really, people need to stop capitulating so easily. Carrie does the same, largely because Miranda in love is apparently an unstoppable force. Carrie's lack of a poker face finally leads to a confrontation in the bathroom during the York-Goldenblatt bar mitzvah. Carrie is visibly disappointed that Miranda can't accompany her to Paris and utterly confused about her friend's plans in Los Angeles for several months while Che works. How could she just walk away from an internship that was once so crucial? (The show lazily introduces this idea in this episode, sidestepping any potential conflict or tension. Show us how hard it was for Miranda to secure this internship, let us see her struggle with letting it go, illustrate what she's willing to sacrifice for Che, and explain the why behind it all!)
Miranda's speech about choosing love, her right to change, and feeling judged by Carrie seems like the show's attempt to justify her character arc this season. It falls flat. Firstly, it's hilarious to hear Miranda accuse Carrie of judging her for changing when she herself had just grilled Carrie for shifting her beliefs about the afterlife—understandable given her husband's recent passing. But mostly, the whole ordeal rings hollow because Miranda's transformations and decisions haven't felt earned. I hate to harp on the lack of consequences, but it all seems too effortless and shallow. There's no empathy for those around her, no repercussions, and still hardly any explanation for their intense connection. We're told so much, but we need to see it for ourselves. There's a goldmine of untapped material here.
Even their fight's resolution is a bit too pat: Rabbi Jen emerges from a bathroom stall and, based solely on a snippet of their conversation, declares how crucial they are to each other. She knows their bond is worth preserving. And just like that, it's over. Miranda dyes her hair back to red, sends Brady off for a summer backpacking trip with Luisa—completely ignoring how he feels about his parents' divorce—and jets off to Los Angeles with Che for a few months. Will it go as smoothly as their trip to Cleveland? Only time and, hopefully, a second season will tell.
