Party of One

There's literally no plot, none whatsoever, and the characters are terribly written. Brady, who's always so neat and composed, suddenly ends up surrounded by a bunch of weirdos who clearly don't belong in his social circle.

They completely ruined the Aidan storyline.

The editing feels like someone just ripped pages out of a book and threw them together. Honestly, this is pure nonsense and downright embarrassing.

If they wanted to win the award for worst series finale like Game of Thrones, well, congratulations, you got it.

The last episode was a total lack of respect for the people. Yesterday I was just laughing at what a terrible piece of crap it was. Filled with plot holes, serious flaws in the writing, characters who were (and still are despite everything) beloved, like Carrie, Aidan, Miranda, Steve, Big, Stanford, and Samantha, were almost completely destroyed, poorly written, stripped of their essence. They deserved more love.

It's as if the writers had a hatred for them and said, "Let's destroy the characters people love". From Carrie and Aidan's surprising breakup (where the episode's writers said so many stupid things to justify it) to the appearance of insane characters like Che and Duncan. And pointless and forced characters like Braidy's girlfriend's friends in the finale.

The truth is, the last five episodes were a total and complete disaster. The supposed closure was a total lack of respect. Honestly, as a viewer, I feel cheated and betrayed. And I only watched it for Carrie, Aidan, Charlotte, Harry, and Seema, the only new character I actually liked. Well... I'll just keep the best and pretend Carrie and Aidan had their happy ending. And that at least they ended up having a good and fond memory of Big. (A character who, although I never liked, seemed tremendously unfair to me that it was as if he didn't exist.) The problem wasn't the characters, the problem was the writers, who forgot how to write real adult character development.

Thanks to all the actors. I know many were frustrated with what they did to their characters.

John and Sarah, thank you for trying to give Carrie and Aidan a happy ending. I was happy while their reunion lasted. And you and they'll always be in my heart.🖤 I'll pretend their had a happy ending.

I'll just stick with SATC, the movies, and the first two seasons of AJLT, with a few good moments from the third season. Although the entire last season is forgettable.

I'll feign dementia and pretend this disaster never happened.💔

I love you all and you'll always be in my heart.❤

...but with a whimper do we bid the Sex and the City franchise good-bye. All the characters end up in a happy place with their partners except for Carrie who realizes she is not alone but on her own. There were so many things the writers got wrong from the very start of AJLT but can never be forgiven for not only killing off Big but having Carrie declare Big was a BIG mistake. That one statement negated the original storyline of SATC and set this current series up for major criticism. There was a lot they got wrong but at least they knew it was time to wave the white flag.

I never write reviews, but I was so disappointed with this season and this ending. Then I googled to see if the show would have a season 4 and realized this is it. It was a terrible way to end it. The plot was thin and Carrie just ends up with the short end of the stick again. Why even have the storyline with the writer if nothing ever comes of it, and it ultimately destroyed what she had with Aiden.

The final episode of "And Just Like That," titled "Party of One," closes Carrie Bradshaw's journey and the gang's in a way that's, at the very least, strange. If the last shot tries to be symbolic, with Carrie walking confidently through her massive apartment to Barry White, finally embracing the narrative that she's not "alone," but rather "on her own," what really sticks in your memory is that bizarre scene where Carrie, Miranda, and Victor Garber try to deal with a clogged toilet caused by a lactose-intolerant young woman. That grotesque, cartoonish choice pretty much sums up the offbeat tone the show leaned into across its three seasons: a fragile balance between wanting to honor the legacy of "Sex and the City" while at the same time twisting it into something disjointed and disproportionately odd.

Carrie's farewell does feel somewhat coherent, since she's always been a character floating between glamour and loneliness, but the way the other storylines wrapped up leaves the impression of something chopped off mid-sentence. Miranda, for example, ends with a storyline loaded with open-ended possibilities, like the imminent birth of her grandchild; Seema, who had become the spiritual successor to Samantha, signs off with a throwaway line about not missing gluten; Lisa, after a whole season teasing a Michelle Obama cameo, is reduced to a vague promise of narrating her own documentary series. Charlotte gets a bit more dignity, dealing sensitively with her youngest child's gender identity, while Anthony gets a lighter, if comedic, ending, breaking off an engagement but keeping his relationship. But as a whole, none of it feels like a true conclusion.

The biggest problem is that the episode fails to deliver what's always been the heart of this franchise: the friends gathered around a table, trading witty, funny takes on life. Instead, we get Carrie sitting alone in some futuristic restaurant, surrounded by robots and staring at a stuffed animal, like the show wanted to underline, almost cruelly, her disconnection from the present. Sure, "And Just Like That" has always liked to put its protagonists through humiliating moments (Charlotte fainting, Carrie slipping on the floor, Big's sudden death) but ending on this kind of weirdness feels more unsettling than nostalgic. If in "Sex and the City" Carrie chose love with Big, here she chooses, once and for all, herself. Is it consistent? Yes. But it lacks emotion, it lacks that sense of a proper goodbye the audience expected after following these women for so many years.

And it's impossible not to comment on what's really behind this so-called "ending." Michael Patrick King insists the decision to wrap it up was his, but it's obvious we're looking at a cancellation disguised as closure. HBO Max is trying to sell the idea that this was all planned, when it clearly wasn't, and that feels disrespectful to the legacy of one of TV's most important franchises. "And Just Like That" was announced as one of the streamer's flagship shows at launch, a prestige bet to bring in subscribers. Ending a story of this size without real care, without the honesty to call it a proper final season, cheapens the work of the actresses and the characters that shaped generations. The audience deserved a farewell that was announced, grand, and worthy of the journey that started back in the '90s. What we got instead was a rushed, awkward cut that leaves behind more of a taste of disregard than of celebration.