“Sex and the City — the iconic TV show that finished its initial run in 2004 — is coming back to television.” — BuzzFeed, 1/10/21
INT. CARRIE’S APARTMENT
[CARRIE types on her laptop.]
CARRIE (V.O.): And just like that, after years of lunches turning into phone calls, and phone calls turning into the all-too-occasional text, I suddenly looked up and realized how far apart my friends and I had drifted. It was nobody’s fault, really; Big and I were traveling, Miranda was climbing the career ladder with a new role in the mayor’s office, and Charlotte was busy having her children pose for fake rowing photos to get them into Columbia. It took the worst to finally bring us back together: failed contract negotiations Samantha’s death.
INT. FUNERAL HOME
[CARRIE, MIRANDA, and CHARLOTTE, all dressed in black, stand in a room full of men.]
CHARLOTTE: When I heard Samantha wanted an open casket I didn’t think she meant the bottom half.
CARRIE: I guess it’s fitting. At least the men paying their respects will recognize her.
[Amongst the men, MIRANDA spots a 70-year-old woman with black hair, tortoise-shell glasses, and an oversized men’s jacket.]
MIRANDA: Wait a minute, is that Fran Lebowitz?
CHARLOTTE: What? Where?
CARRIE: Oh my god, it is. What is Fran Lebowitz doing at Samantha’s funeral?
[CARRIE stops FRAN as she walks past them.]
CARRIE: Excuse me, Ms. Lebowitz? I’m Carrie Bradshaw, it’s nice to meet you.
FRAN LEBOWITZ: Hello.
CARRIE: If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know Samantha?
FRAN LEBOWITZ: If I’m being completely honest, I saw a line of 300 men trying to get in here and assumed Brooks Brothers was having a sale. I was going to get a new jacket.
INT. UPPER EAST SIDE RESTAURANT
CARRIE (V.O.): New York City never ceases to surprise. Unlike Samantha, it’ll never die, and best of all, it can’t opt-out of a lucrative sequel series for HBO Max. It’s filled with love, opportunity, and new friends in the most unexpected of places.
[CARRIE, MIRANDA, CHARLOTTE, and FRAN LEBOWITZ sit at a table for lunch.]
MIRANDA: I can’t believe how long it’s been, but it really doesn’t feel like a day’s gone by. Carrie, how are you and Big doing?
CARRIE: It’s funny you ask, I’ve felt like we’ve been going through kind of a rough patch lately…
FRAN LEBOWITZ: I’m sorry, excuse me: Big? Is this a man you’re talking about? Is that supposed to be a name?
CHARLOTTE: Yes, Big is Carrie’s husband.
FRAN LEBOWITZ: No, that’s not a name, that’s an adjective.
MIRANDA: So what about you Fran? How’s your love life?
FRAN LEBOWITZ: My love life? I’ll tell you what I love: I watched a tourist get hit by a Citi Bike on 57th Street. This, to me, was very pleasing.
CHARLOTTE: Well, Harry and I have been thinking about making a move to the suburbs, but I just don’t know if I could ever leave the city.
FRAN LEBOWITZ: I could never leave New York. I love New York City, and I’ll tell you how much I love New York City by rattling off roughly 200 specific things that I deeply despise about it. Number one: when sidewalk gum turns black, number two—
CARRIE: Miranda, how have things been at the mayor’s office?
FRAN LEBOWITZ: Wait a minute, you work in the mayor’s office? I have some grievances, starting with the subway system. I tried to take the F train to get here, and it wasn’t running because Jimmy Fallon was shooting some kind of sketch on the platform. I had to find a cab, which is nearly impossible for me ever since the Taxi Workers Alliance started circulating my picture. Luckily someone finally picked me up thinking I was Timothée Chalamet, but sure enough, the cabbie drove like an absolute lunatic. I finally said, “Pull over, we’re switching seats,” and I drove the rest of the way.
CARRIE: The F train? Is that a euphemism?
CHARLOTTE: Aw, just like Samantha would make.
FRAN LEBOWITZ: What? No, the literal F train. The subway.
CHARLOTTE: I don’t know what that is.
CARRIE: Oh, I think it’s like cabs, but underground?
FRAN LEBOWITZ: Who are you people?
INT. DRESS STORE
[CARRIE, MIRANDA, and CHARLOTTE are all trying on colorful, fashionable dresses and shoes. FRAN LEBOWITZ is in the changing room.]
CARRIE: Do you really think this will help spice things up with Big?
MIRANDA: Sure I do. When Brady went away to college, Steve and I made a point to start dating again. Fancy dinners, getting dressed up, the whole nine yards. And let me tell you, it totally saved our marriage.
CHARLOTTE: Fran, are you coming out?
FRAN LEBOWITZ (from off screen): I don’t know, this is very flashy.
CARRIE: Oh, come on, Fran, show us!
[FRAN steps out, wearing her usual outfit, except her suit jacket is dark blue instead of black.]
FRAN LEBOWITZ: Is it too much? I feel like a pimp.
INT. MAGNOLIA BAKERY
[CARRIE and FRAN sit, eating a cupcake and quart of banana pudding, respectively. FRAN smokes two cigarettes at once.]
CARRIE: I just don’t know what it is, you’re great, Fran, you really are. And we have so much in common…
FRAN LEBOWITZ: What exactly do we have in common?
CARRIE: Well, we’re both writers who write as little as humanly possible, I have 10,000 pairs of shoes, you have 10,000 books, and we’re both smokers synonymous with New York City. But the thing is, Fran, you’re just not Samantha.
FRAN LEBOWITZ: Of course not, are you insane? What about me made you think that I was anything like Samantha? That one time she dated a woman for three episodes? No, nobody can fill that void, Carrie, except Jane Krakowski, obviously. But besides that, no one.
CARRIE: You’re right. I guess we were just trying to fill that seat at the table anyway we could.
FRAN LEBOWITZ: Okay, well, listen, I have to be at the 92nd Street Y in forty minutes, and it’s going to take me longer than that if your friend hasn’t made any headway in fixing the subway yet, so I’ve got to get going.
INT. CARRIE’S APARTMENT — NIGHT
[CARRIE writes on her laptop.]
CARRIE (V.O.): As I thought about what Fran Lebowitz said, I couldn’t help but wonder… if she couldn’t fill Samantha Jones’s Louboutins then who could? Perhaps it was a role that would be impossible to replicate in all of our lives. But nonetheless, I want that ten-episode series order.