And Just Like That TV Show: Why It’s Still The Most Polarizing Thing On Your Screen

And Just Like That TV Show: Why It’s Still The Most Polarizing Thing On Your Screen

It’s been over twenty-five years since we first saw Carrie Bradshaw trip on a runway or get dumped via Post-it. You’d think the drama would have cooled off by now. Honestly, it hasn't. If anything, the And Just Like That tv show has become a lightning rod for more cultural debate than the original Sex and the City ever managed, and that's saying something for a show that once spent an entire episode debating the politics of "the funky spunk."

People love to hate-watch it. They also love to just... love it. It’s a weird, messy, high-fashion midlife crisis captured on 4K digital cameras, and it refuses to be the nostalgia trip everyone expected.

The Samantha Jones Sized Hole in the Room

Let’s get the obvious thing out of the way immediately. When the And Just Like That tv show was first announced, the immediate outcry wasn't about the plot or the fashion. It was about Kim Cattrall. You cannot simply remove a quarter of a legendary quartet and expect the chemistry to stay the same. It’s like trying to make a BLT without the bacon. You just have a soggy salad sandwich.

Michael Patrick King and the writing team had a choice: kill her off or keep her alive in the "digital ether." They chose the latter. We saw the texts. We saw the flower arrangement at Big’s funeral. But the absence of Samantha Jones forced the show to pivot from a story about four friends to a story about how life evolves when people drift apart. It’s uncomfortable. It’s also, arguably, the most realistic thing the show has ever done. Friends leave. Grudges happen. Life goes on even when you don't want it to.

Then came the Season 2 finale cameo. It was sixty seconds of screen time that reportedly cost a fortune and required Cattrall to film without seeing any of her former co-stars. Was it worth it? For the fans, yes. For the narrative? It felt like a band-aid on a gunshot wound. But that’s the thing about this show—it leans into the awkwardness.

Addressing the Peloton in the Room

Remember the premiere? Of course you do. Everyone does.

Killing off Mr. Big in the very first episode was a massive swing. It wasn't just a plot twist; it was a total demolition of the "happily ever after" that the two movies had fought so hard to establish. Watching Carrie find him on the bathroom floor was traumatic for a generation of viewers who grew up romanticizing their toxic-but-glamorous relationship.

The fallout was fascinating. Peloton’s stock actually dipped. The company had to release a statement. Ryan Reynolds even filmed a parody commercial with Chris Noth within 48 hours. It was a chaotic moment in pop culture history. But from a storytelling perspective, it was a necessary evil. If Big stayed alive, Carrie would just be a wealthy woman living in a nice apartment with nothing to do but choose between Manolos. By making her a widow, the writers forced her back into the world. They forced her to be vulnerable again.

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The Problem With "Woke" SATC

One of the biggest criticisms leveled at the And Just Like That tv show is its handle on modern social politics. The original series was—let’s be honest—incredibly white and often tone-deaf regarding LGBTQ+ issues. The revival tried to fix this all at once.

It felt clunky.

We got new characters like Seema Patel, Lisa Todd Wexley, and Dr. Nya Wallace. While these characters are actually quite interesting—Sarita Choudhury’s Seema is arguably the best thing to happen to the franchise—the way they were introduced felt a bit like a diversity checklist.

  • Seema brought back the Sam-esque "cool girl" energy.
  • Nya explored the complexities of IVF and marriage breakdown.
  • Lisa showed the high-stakes world of Black excellence in Manhattan’s elite circles.

The struggle was in the integration. In the first season, it felt like the "legacy" characters were walking on eggshells around their new friends. It was cringe-inducing. However, by Season 2, the edges started to soften. The friendships felt more earned and less like a corporate HR seminar.

Che Diaz and the Internet’s Collective Meltdown

We have to talk about Che.

Sara Ramírez is a fantastic performer, but the character of Che Diaz became the most hated person on the internet for about eighteen months. Non-binary, a stand-up comedian (whose jokes were... questionable), and the person who broke up Miranda and Steve.

It was a perfect storm of fan rage.

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People hated what Che did to Miranda. Miranda Hobbes, the cynical, sharp-tongued lawyer we all identified with, suddenly became a fawning, bumbling teenager chasing a podcast host to California. It felt like a betrayal of the character. But look at it from another angle: people in their 50s have identity crises too. They blow up their lives. They make bad decisions for "the spark."

The backlash to Che was so intense that the writers actually addressed it within the show during Season 2, showing Che dealing with bad focus group results for their sitcom pilot. It was meta. It was self-aware. And eventually, the show moved on, ending the Miranda/Che saga in a way that felt like a messy, necessary mistake.

The Fashion: Still a Character?

In the original series, Patricia Field was the secret sauce. Her styling was erratic, brilliant, and trend-setting. For the And Just Like That tv show, Molly Rogers and Danny Santiago took the reins.

The vibe changed. It went from "aspiring fashionista" to "extremely wealthy woman who owns an archive."

Carrie isn't wearing a $5 tutu anymore. She’s wearing archival Vivienne Westwood and Moncler puffers that look like sleeping bags. It’s less relatable, but it’s still aspirational. The return of the wedding dress (the bird!) in Season 2 was a masterstroke of costume-led storytelling. It reminded us that while these women have aged, their history is still hanging in their closets.

Grief and the Reality of 50+

What the show actually gets right—and what people often overlook because they’re busy complaining about the dialogue—is the depiction of aging.

Not many shows celebrate women in their 50s having sex, starting new careers, and navigating grief. When Charlotte deals with the "dryness" of menopause or the realization that she’s lost her identity to her children, it rings true. When Carrie realizes she has to learn how to date in the era of apps, it’s funny because it’s terrifying.

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The show captures the specific loneliness of being a "certain age." Your kids are growing up and don't need you. Your parents are dying. Your body is changing. You’re still the same person inside, but the world looks at you differently.

Aidan Shaw and the Cycle of Nostalgia

Season 2 brought back John Corbett as Aidan Shaw.

The fans screamed. Some in joy, some in frustration.

Bringing Aidan back felt like the ultimate "break glass in case of emergency" move. Their reunion was sweet, but the "five-year plan" ending of the second season was a polarizing choice. It felt like the writers wanted to have their cake and eat it too—keeping the romance alive without actually having to write a domestic relationship for Carrie.

It keeps the stakes high for Season 3. Will Carrie actually wait five years? In Manhattan time, that’s an eternity.


What You Should Do Next

If you’re planning to dive into the And Just Like That tv show or you’re gearing up for the next season, here is how to actually enjoy it without losing your mind:

  • Stop comparing it to 1998. That world is gone. The show isn't trying to be a 22-minute sitcom anymore. It’s a 45-minute dramedy. Accept that the pacing is different.
  • Watch for the B-plots. Seema Patel and Lisa Todd Wexley are often more interesting than the core three at this point. Pay attention to their arcs; they represent the "new" New York.
  • Embrace the cringe. Part of the show's DNA now is that it’s slightly out of touch. Once you stop expecting Carrie to be "relatable" and start viewing her as a wealthy eccentric, the show becomes much more fun.
  • Track the Easter eggs. The production design is incredible. From the books on Carrie’s shelves to the art in Charlotte’s apartment, there are dozens of callbacks to the original series hidden in plain sight.
  • Revisit the "pivotal" episodes. Before Season 3 drops, re-watch the Season 1 premiere and the Season 2 finale back-to-back. It shows just how far Carrie has come from the "frozen" state she was in after Big’s death.

The reality is that this show is about evolution. It’s messy, sometimes frustrating, and occasionally brilliant. Just like life in your 50s.