(Warning: Spoilers ahead.)
Carrie got her groove back.
Rather than wallow in post-Aidan (John Corbett) misery, Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) takes a leap toward something new in this week’s And Just Like That. Not only has Carrie finally furnished her Gramercy Park home, but she made progress on her novel, embracing a deeper collaboration with hot neighbor, Duncan Reeves (Jonathan Cake). It is a connection that turns the page this week, injecting some much-needed steaminess into Carrie’s life.
The prophecy of enemies-to-lovers laid out in Duncan’s first and extremely curmudgeonly appearance earlier this season has been fulfilled in an episode that takes verbal foreplay to the next level. There is even a cute callback to Carrie being too much of a distraction for Duncan to get any work done. Previously, it was the clack-clack of her stilettos on the floorboards above that drove Duncan crazy. Irritation has been replaced by admiration and endless flirty banter during notes-giving sessions, giving Cake ample opportunity to flex his charm.
Before Duncan says farewell so he can finish his Margaret Thatcher biography uninterrupted in London, AJLT drops the anguish that has threatened to consume the HBO Max series this season. (Bye, Aidan!) Conversations now finally crackle with the anticipation now that Carrie is ready to move from her turgid on-again-off-again relationship. Sexual tension that has been bubbling since Duncan first arrived hits a boiling point in an episode that ends with the pair in bed.
Carrie finally feels seen for the writer she is, though her fears about mixing business and pleasure aren’t the only things holding her back. Worrying that she might get an “I told you so” from Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) is no reason to forgo a great lay—and Miranda was right about the casual intimacy suggesting more. Plus, there is no time to fret about it falling apart, as AJLT opts for a brief but impactful fling that leaves the door open.
Writing about sex led to an overlap between Carrie’s creative output and matters of the heart throughout Sex and the City. But AJLT has struggled to capture this essence, whether in the podcast venture, the grief memoir, or this current project set in the mid-1800s. It is far easier to organically link an advice column to whatever dating drama is unfolding on screen than Carrie’s journey into the past. Still, this electric chemistry between Parker and Cake means I am suddenly far more invested in the Woman and her 19th-century antics.
Even when the dialogue falls into cringeworthy references to their shared occupation, there is still a wistful delight to the interactions. Yes, even the cheesy bit where they repeat things three times. Or, take Duncan venturing upstairs to aid Carrie in her (very relatable) battle with the printer. Duncan doesn’t quite utter the phrase “so this is where the magic happens” when he sees Carrie’s room where she works, but it veers close to that. Or at least it is the British version: “What a lovely room.”
It is a testament to Cake’s delivery of the (mostly) positive notes about Carrie’s plotting and prose that makes me temporarily ignore how terrible the book actually sounds. Instead, I find myself grinning from ear to ear as he comments on her “scotch-worthy” choices, followed by their playful back and forth about who the most accomplished writer is. Teasing can lead to ego-bruising, but Duncan doesn’t bristle when Carrie points out that as a biographer, his plots already exist. “It’s true. What the bloody hell takes me so long?” he jokes.
Speaking of pacing, this season continues to be all over the place (don’t even get me started on some of the exasperating subplots and the yo-yo episode lengths). Spending a few more episodes on this burgeoning romance without Aidan hovering in the background would’ve been preferable. Aidan stuck around too long; Duncan is leaving too soon.
Over cocktails, Carrie tells Seema (Sarita Choudhury) that she has never experienced a man who sees her as smart first (“He sees my me-ness”). It is pretty depressing that none of her previous suitors (long-term or short-term) tick that particular box, highlighting why she is cautious of viewing this dynamic as anything more than intellectual. Nevertheless, if Carrie wasn’t already opening her eyes to the possibility, then Duncan’s reaction to her closet might tip her into extremely horny territory (or maybe that is just me).
Yep, Duncan’s eyes go wide when he spots the many frocks in Carrie’s closet. Talk about intimacy: When Carrie introduces Duncan to “my girls”...swoon. Yep, Duncan gets to enter the inner sanctum that houses Carrie’s shoes, the very thing that caused him so much outrage when the pair first met. Now, Duncan is giddy seeing the “sparkles, sparkles, sparkles” of Carrie’s heels. “You are just a fairy tale, aren’t you?” says Duncan. He uses the opportunity to be theatrical and ask her out to a literary party. Any attempt to pretend that this is purely professional has dissolved after that routine.
But will Carrie go to the ball? Duncan’s turn from ornery to charming might be considered a fantasy. But I think it is a much-needed palate cleanser after enduring the Aidan saga. So what if he is starry-eyed over Carrie’s masterful command of the English language? I can suspend disbelief if it means getting to enjoy the rom-com leading man routine—even if it is just for this one episode.
Carrie chooses the showstopping vintage Vivienne Westwood dress for the party, but passes on the invitation to go downstairs to Duncan’s apartment when they arrive home. Well, almost passes. It has been such a long time since I got a buzz from this show, and lines that I might usually roll my eyes at (“I think you’re wonderful” uttered by both) are music to my ears. As a Brit myself, it isn’t even his accent that is doing it, but Cake has something cooking that has been lacking on this spinoff—okay, maybe his saying “my dear” and “my darling” is helping.
Thankfully, Carrie doesn’t let this opportunity slip through her fingers. The intensity of the first kiss makes the initial rejection worth it. Finally, AJLT remembers how to have fun with Carrie.
Cut to the post-coital glow with Duncan lighting up a joint (smoking is allowed in this bed). I am almost too preoccupied by Cake sans cardigan to remember that Duncan isn’t coming back. Alas, Carrie is too distracting, and he needs to finish his book.
Duncan fires off one more cheesy missive (“I may have missed a deadline, but you’ve given me a new lifeline”), which he knows has hit a new echelon of overtly flowery. But in letting us into Duncan’s heart and bedroom, AJLT has found its pulse.
