And Just Like That bows out with a woke whimper

It’s official: And Just Like That has come to an end after just three seasons. Showrunner Michael Patrick King called it “a wonderful place to stop,” though for viewers who had just begun warming to the show, the news felt abrupt.

For many who grew up on Sex and the City, part of the frustration was that this reboot seemed determined to replace the sharp, offensive wit of the original with something far more cautious, and at times even a little too eager to cheerlead the offended rather than skewer social taboos. That edge was the lifeblood of the original series.

Early episodes in 2021 were sternly judged. Critics labelled it “cloying” and “cringey,” with Carrie pivoting to podcasting and Miranda’s romance with non-binary comedian Che Diaz dividing opinion. Even efforts to diversify the cast drew accusations of tokenism. Yet, somewhere along the way, And Just Like That became watchable – not the old Sex and the City, but a softer escapism that found its own rhythm. Charlotte trudging through a snowstorm to buy condoms for her teenage daughter, Miranda in a surreal storyline with Rosie O’Donnell, and Seema stepping up as a convincing Samantha stand-in – these were moments that brought flashes of fun.

By the second half of season three, the series felt steadier. Carrie, in post-Big and post-Aidan territory, struggled through a painfully flat historical novel storyline, but audiences still tuned in. Which is why the announcement of its cancellation just as it settled into its stride came as a disappointment.

The final episode was characteristically messy. Thanksgiving dinner dissolved into chaos, complete with Miranda’s shrill reaction to becoming a grandmother, uptight girlfriend drama, Gen Z caricatures, and an overflowing toilet as the evening’s crescendo. Carrie then slipped away, heels clicking across her apartment floor, karaoke serenading herself to Barry White – a callback to her earlier declaration that the “most significant relationship is the one you have with yourself.” Except this time, the sentiment landed with less conviction.

As finales go, it was strange, uneven, and oddly fitting. Like the show itself, it left viewers split – some relieved, others frustrated, but few indifferent. For a generation that loved Sex and the City for its ability to offend rather than appease, this reboot was always going to feel different. Whether that difference was growth or dilution depends on who you ask.

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