THE PREMISE:

"The series follows Carrie, Miranda, and Charlotte as they navigate the journey from the complicated reality of life and friendship in their 30s to the even more complicated reality of life and friendship in their 50s."

OUR REVIEW:

And just like that And Just Like That... returns for another season to see if it can recapture any of the magic of its of-its-time predecessor, Sex and the City, so the legions of fans who are more watching out of odd hate or bewilderment can find a modicum of naturality in a show that has, so far, felt like it has existed on another plane, despite its attempt at overt inclusivity.

When we last left the lead trio of AJLT..., Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) and her beau (finally!) Aidan (John Corbett) put their relationship on a 5-year hold, following his retreat out of the city off the back of his troubled young son needing constant watch on the count of his instability; Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), finally free of her non-binary partner, Che (Sara Ramirez), and making peace with ex Steve (David Eigenberg), earned a career win with a BBC interview and, subsequently, a potentially romantic interest in network producer Joy (Dolly Wells); and Charlotte (Kristin Davis) put her foot down and demanded that hubby Harry (Evan Handler) be more active in the household.

Whilst Miranda no longer being attached to the walking drama that was the divisive Che means she can enjoy the single scene of the city (the first episode introduces her to Rosie O'Donnell's sweet-natured Mary, a rendezvous that has unexpectedly holy repercussions), her dynamic with Joy does get a welcome amount of mileage, and it's something of a treat to see the character treated in a much more welcome fashion.  She has her share of questionable behaviour throughout (there's a storyline involving the way she treats certain items of Carrie's that might irk some viewers), as well as a humorous faux pas surrounding her choice to take a breath during a certain word in a live news cross, but it seems like Nixon is finally working with a Miranda that feels a little more in tune with how we remember her from the original series.

Davis, similarly, has a heft of weight to work with this time around too, with her involved in perhaps the most emotionally-driven storyline (no spoilers).  As we only see remote glimpses of her at work, and a lot of time spent with her two daughters, it's another welcome additive for the AJLT... team to hand Davis material that showcases her dramatic abilities. Seeing Charlotte, forever the optimist, having to face certain aspects of life away from her usual rose-coloured glasses shows us, the viewers, the grand potential the show has - and that its forced farcicality is even more obvious in the face of such beautiful restraint.

And then there's Parker. In the years since the original Sex and the City aired, many have come to see just how awful a character Carrie was.  Regardless of such, Parker embodies her with a lightness that is hard not to be charmed by - especially as it seems that this new venture tries to right many of her original wrongs. Some of the outfit choices can't help but seem too extravagant for everyday occurrences (though at least in this timeline, Carrie has considerable wealth, so it's not out of the realms of her budget) and there's a certain back and forth with Aidan that threatens to feel as if, as a couple, they'll never truly progress, but there's a series of relationships she develops that suggest her waiting period with Aidan may not be as smooth as, at least, he intends; there's a great conversation the two have regarding what exactly was going to happen on the sex front in the 5-year gap, which, understandably, they have differing opinions on.

Though it makes sense as to why AJLT... has been deemed inferior to Sex and the City, I have to commend the writers of this season for at least trying to favour drama and forward-moving narratives over inclusion that, whilst welcome, never felt as organic as it should.  It's a beautiful thing to see a series led by three women, as well as earn strong support from two women of colour (Sarita Choudhury's Seema and Nicole Ari Parker's Lisa Todd Wexley, both who are given their own substantial storylines too).  And conversations and interactions with people of different genders and sexual orientations is something that should come quite naturally in a setting like New York, and it feels like the writers have finally learned to trust the process of that, rather than shoehorn in necessities for the sake of hoping to not offend.

This third season is by no means perfect, but there's something that feels a little less performative as a whole. The show still enjoys its situational humour set-ups (we do have Anthony's bread shop and the at-times comically well-endowed staff to contend with), but it lets the characters have difficult conversations and bathe in their own frustration, which is something Sex and the City so often delighted in. As for the episodes screened for critics for this review, the glorious Kim Cattrall hasn't shown up for a second serving cameo (though her Samantha is still included in one form or another), so don't get your hopes up, but maybe fans won't need such an inclusion to finally enjoy a show that appears to be taking the right high-heeled steps forward.