A telling moment in the Sex and the City movie comes at a formal pre-wedding dinner as the maid of honor refuses to dish dirt on the bride, boldly asserting that in their close-knit group of friends, no one kisses and tells. As anyone who's watched the groundbreaking HBO comedy knows, these four single New Yorkers did a whole lot more than kiss and they talked about it incessantly, in the kind of graphic detail that made the show a primer on female sexual mores.

The film's writer and director, Michael Patrick King, was the show runner who guided the series (1998 to 2004) from its randy beginnings to its traditional conclusion: the women in monogamous relationships with men who had proven themselves worthy of commitment. The central character, Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker), may have written a newspaper sex column (based on Candace Bushnell's New York Observer pieces), but it was as much about the importance of friendship and the vagaries of romantic relationships as it was about sexuality, and so — in the end — was the show.

Men came and went; it was the bond between Carrie, publicist Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall), gallery manager Charlotte York (Kristin Davis), and attorney Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia Nixon) that functioned as their vital support system and emotional outlet. That remains true in the film, which picks up four years after the show's happily ever after conclusion. Samantha has moved to Los Angeles to oversee the career of her protégé, and Carrie is now a best-selling author, but otherwise, little has changed.

Carrie doesn't ask it in her trademark voiceover, but the big question hanging over the women is this: they've settled in, but are they settling? Over the course of nearly 2 and 1/2 hours (that's five back to back episodes), there are betrayals and reconnections, expectations bang up against fear and disappointment, and the primacy of the union between these women is re-asserted with a new maturity. Gone is the girlfriends uniting against irresponsible men pose, as they realize just how much the ability to speak freely with each other benefits the other aspects of their lives.

There's actually very little sex in this City; the only person really getting any action is Samantha's handsome Malibu neighbor. (King's camera caresses Gilles Marini's rarely clothed body, mirroring Samantha's voyeuristic desire, and reminding fans of the show's gender-reversing fetishizing of male flesh.) When one character does get down and dirty with some R-rated make-up sex, it seems glaringly out of place in King's relationship-focused film, which resembles the final episodes of the series. What the movie really reveals is the secret of Sex and the City: despite its culture-shifting reputation, the show was essentially a very smart soap opera, made with an inclusive intimacy that allowed women viewers to live vicariously through the complex characters.

Will the judgmental Miranda forgive the infidelity of her earnest husband Steve (David Eigenberg)? Will the voracious Samantha remain faithful to Smith (Jason Lewis), whose burgeoning career has become the focus of their relationship? Will the worrisome Charlotte embrace pregnancy despite her suspicion that happiness comes with a price? Will the weary Carrie finally trust in the devotion of her Mr. Big (Chris Noth) after a tumultuous decade together and apart? None of this will matter much to anyone but die-hard series fans; the film's sketchy portraits rely on the audience's knowledge of their intricate back-stories.

The one new character, Carrie's eager and effective personal assistant Louise (Jennifer Hudson), is more a plot device than a person, brought in to sweep up the ashes of her famous boss's charred self-esteem. But what the American Idol turned Dreamgirl really does here is to administer a booster shot of enthusiasm to Carrie, reminding the author of a thousand piquant observations about single life in Manhattan (the kind of pithy quips that are few and far between in this script) of why she should not give up on love. King actually populates the film with a swarm of Louises, driven young women dressed to the nines and in the company of their equally fabulous friends.

From the moment Carrie struts into view in a tony mid-town shopping district, she's ogled admiringly by packs of twentysomethings walking in her stilettos. By surrounding the original Sex and the City foursome with younger versions of themselves, King acknowledges their influence, but ends up making them seem less distinctive. One of the show's strengths was its ability to showcase Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda as individuals by revealing the heartfelt stories beneath the glittering façades. There are too many times in the film where they feel like just another set of girlfriends out on the town.

Another jarring change is the rampant product placement, and the emphasis on high-end shopping as Carrie morphs from fashion road-kill to Vogue model bride. Outrageous fashion was always a part of the storylines (entire episodes would revolve around the acquisition of shoes or handbags), but trends spawned by the Sex quartet were more about individual style, quirky choices pulled together by adventurous dressers. Sadly, influential costume designer Patricia Field has turned them into couture mannequins for the film, their distinctive quirks buffed away by a stylist's careful polishing.

So, just at the point when it seems that our once yearning friends have simply become ladies who lunch, King decides that they can have their cosmos and drink them, too. He's constructed Sex and the City not only as a happy reunion, but a return to romance. When Carrie finally slips back into her sky-high Manolos, it's in the kind of Cinderella moment that she'd stopped believing is possible. For all the film's emphasis on the acquisition of status symbols, it's love that wins out over labels. And that's what really sells.

© 2008, Serena Donadoni. All rights reserved.

Writer and Director: Michael Patrick King | Adapted from the television series Sex and the City created by Darren Star and based on the autobiographical columns of Candace Bushnell | Cinematography: John Thomas | Music: Aaron Zigman | Production Design: Jeremy Conway | Costume Design: Patricia Field, Molly Rogers and Danny Santiago | Editing: Michael Berenbaum | Producers: Sarah Jessica Parker, Michael Patrick King, Darren Star and John Melfi | Released by New Line Cinema | Running time: 145 minutes | Rated R

Cast: Sarah Jessica Parker (Carrie Bradshaw), Kim Cattrall (Samantha Jones), Kristin Davis (Charlotte York), Cynthia Nixon (Miranda Hobbes), Chris Noth (John James Preston aka Mr. Big), Jason Lewis (Jerry "Smith" Jerrod), Evan Handler (Harry Goldenblatt), David Eigenberg (Steve Brady), Jennifer Hudson (Louise), Mario Cantone (Anthony Marentino), Willie Garson (Stanford Blatch), Lynn Cohen (Magda), Gilles Marini (Dante), and Candice Bergen (Enid Frick).