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Business & Tech

Sarah Jessica Parker Goes Super Mommy; Still Wears Heels

'I Don't Know How She Does It' has few surprises, but lots of laughs.

I’m not a mom, but I read enough chick lit to feel like I know what it’s like. No sleep. A constant state of semi-martyrdom. Bits of food in your hair, and an overwhelming, indescribable amount of love in your heart.

In that regard, “I Don’t Know How She Does It” is just another prosaic account of a mom trying her darndest and failing, but c’est la vie, etc., and so on. The film was based on the book by British novelist Allison Pearson, and because of that you get the sense that you’re getting a polished, Reader’s Digest version of the story, which is, no doubt, a little more nuanced on the page.
 
But as a lover of chick lit and a girl enjoying a ladies' night out, the new Sarah Jessica Parker vehicle fits like an old sweater, warm and familiar. 
 
SJP – you don’t mind if I call her SJP, do you – is Kate Reddy, a hedge fund manager with a heart of gold. She’s the mom of two, wife of one, and she has that soul-crushing guilt that most working mothers carry. When she lands a big deal at work, faraway meetings take her away from her children more often than usual, which unhinges the precariously balanced structure of her home life, throwing it into disarray.
 
This is where Kate’s personality begins to grate, as she continually apologizes to anything that moves, but particularly to her devastatingly handsome business partner, Cutie McHottie Pierce Brosnan. I hate it when women continually apologize, almost like a verbal tick. YOU DO NOT NEED TO APOLOGIZE FOR WHO YOU ARE. 
 
I’m sorry to yell. But it’s a real pet peeve. Same goes for the villainization of moms, be it the working ones or the stay-at-home ones. We’re all women. Why can’t we play for the same team? And I think playing up those stereotypes, which this film does often, is just lazy writing. Think of a new plot device. We’ve heard this story before.
 
That said, I loves me my SJP, and Pierce ain’t no schlub. Add the charming Greg Kinnear, the hilarious Seth Meyers and the spot on deadpan performance of Olivia Munn, as a Type-A, unforgiving work-a-holic, and you have the makings of a lovely night. Although I may wait for the DVD. I suspect it would be even better with wine and chocolate. (Hey, you're going to endorse female sterotypes, you may as well go all the way, right?)

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