I get the aspirational aspect of Sex And The City, and how the representation of professional urban women as unapologetically promiscuous can be considered healthy and progressive. And I get that some find Sarah Jessica Parker's squealing pixie protagonist - especially when dressed like a toddler who got into Crazy Aunt Susan's closet - appealing in a manner reeking of mass-produced "quirk." I get it, I really do.
But one crime of which I find the show undeniably guilty is the minstrelsy that played out with the addition of Mario Cantone's character, Anthony. I only saw most of the first several seasons (and lost interest by the time Cynthia Nixon stopped looking like Ed Begley, Jr.), but in catching bits and pieces of later seasons, I was nauseated by the addition of Homo #2 as Charlotte's faggy accessory to Carrie's plaid-happy gay BFF, Stanford Blatt. At best, Stanford was at least "soft and cuddly," and his sassy puns fit in alongside the same dreck that came out of every other character's mouth (sorry, but nobody - from Manhattan to Manhattan, Kansas - speaks like they're in a Neil Simon play with stupid hats). But Anthony, from what I've seen, is no different from Mario Cantone, the bitchy Italian monster whose staid antics - yelling! bitching! cursing! CUZ HE'S GAAAAAY! - have earned him a small following (I guess?). In this case, art imitates life it seems, and both cases constitute loud noise and leather jackets, two things of which I'm not fond.
When I was a kid, I used to watch this Saturday morning show that was local to the New York area (on WWOR, channel 9). It was the weirdest show where everything took place, like, in the sewers? And it was hosted by this dude who was loud and bonkers, and all I really remember is him scaring Jodi Benson shitless. The show was called Steampipe Alley, and lo and behold, a clip lives on YouTube:
It's official: once a shrieking homomonster, always a shrieking homomonster.
[Footnote: I'm gay, so I'm allowed to spew homophobic slurs.]