The roller-coaster ride that is “And Just Like That” may finally be leveling out. After a discombobulating introductory season that whipped from dramatic slumps (like killing off Big) to comedic spikes (like “I’ve done a ton of weed”) and a second season that doubled down on the same gut-wrenching turns that made the revival a hit among hate-watchers (bringing back Che Diaz! re-introducing Aidan!), Michael Patrick King’s “Sex and the City” sequel series seems to be settling into a groove. A groove that’s quite familiar, if once forsaken. Yes, a groove worn smooth by “Sex and the City.”
For as much as “And Just Like That” worked to distinguish itself from the original show (no Samantha, no Big, longer episodes, less voiceover, a bigger cast), it just as often retreated to comfortable conditions. The fashion, the friendships, and the flings are all as integral to the new series as the old one, and the first two seasons leaned heavily on nostalgia to keep audiences hooked. (Most revivals are built on nostalgia, but “AJLT” took it further by teasing Kim Cattrall’s cameo for years, onscreen and off, and then using John Corbett’s return as the big hook for Season 2.) “And Just Like That” wasn’t “Sex and the City,” but only in the same way Max wasn’t HBO; seeing one as interchangeable with the other may tarnish the established brand’s reputation. But in practical terms, you can’t pay for one without getting the other.
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It’s fitting, then, that during the same summer Max becomes HBO Max (again), “And Just Like That” starts to feel more like “Sex and the City” than ever. While still prone to irritating unforced errors and lacking the courage to embrace the unknown in ways comparable to the original (and necessary for the revival), “And Just Like That” Season 3 is relatively easy to enjoy — or at least harder to hate.
But let’s start, as Season 3 does, with the main obstacle to all forms of growth: Aidan Shaw. At the end of Season 2, the woodworking goofball decides he needs to commit full-time to his wayward son, Wyatt. That means moving out of the gobsmacking Gramercy Park apartment he bought with Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) and moving back to Virginia where his ex-wife, Kathy (Rosemarie DeWitt), lives with their boys. What it doesn’t mean is that Aidan and Carrie are broken up. He pitches, and she agrees to, a five-year pause; he’ll be able to focus exclusively on his son for as long as it helps, and she’ll be able to… wait around?
The finale left details of their lopsided arrangement a bit fuzzy, and Season 3 starts with Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), Charlotte (Kristin Davis), and especially Anthony (Mario Cantone) giving Carrie significant side-eye about Aidan’s five-year deferment. Without speaking in the blunt terms many fans had for our delusional star, Carrie’s friends’ skepticism — in a show accustomed to ignoring common sense — helps steady Carrie’s arcs across the early episodes, as she tries to better define how her ill-advised romance will actually work.
Whether you love Aidan or loathe him, never has it been clearer that “And Just Like That” needs to jettison Carrie’s emotionally inept boyfriend. Season 3 sends her back out into the world enough to remind us how fun her initial, often awkward encounters with men can be. She gets a new gardener (Logan Marshall-Green), whose silly T-shirts and sassy attitude are a charming foil to Carrie’s serious fashion and proper manners. Then, there’s her downstairs neighbor, a rude, British author (Jonathan Cake) whose uncaring demands bring out Carrie’s stubborn side (and Parker’s fine-tuned comedic chops).
Neither of these men are actively hitting on Carrie, nor is she flirting with them. But seeing her challenged by strangers, even vaguely, speaks to the sense of discovery that’s missing from “And Just Like That.” Our former essayist was always curious about the twists and turns in New York CIty’s dating circles, and even if she’s a bit set in her ways as a sage 50-something, an inquisitive attitude applied to the show’s only consistent theme — starting over — would go a long way toward livening up future seasons. Make her meet people! Let her flirt! Show us what beginning again later in life really looks like, as opposed to confining Carrie to a nostalgic bubble.
Frustrations tied to her restrictions are increasingly evident as the women around her find fun and excitement on life’s unexpected avenues. Take Miranda. After facing claims of character assassination throughout Season 1, the “SATC” fan-favorite overcame the Che of it all in Season 2 and is now free to focus on her own new journey: out and single, ambitious and alone. Season 3 sees her taking risks while working to better her lifelong passions (a strong career and strong relationships). Whether it’s with a one-night stand (Rosie O’Donnell with a great guest arc) or bingeing bad TV, some ventures pay off, some don’t, but Miranda’s rediscovered independence strikes the right balance between comforting (she feels like Miranda again) and compelling. (There’s no obvious endpoint.)
Charlotte, meanwhile, mainly provides comic relief, which is more than fine. She’s good at it! Her kids are fun enough, and Harry (Evan Handler) is a reliable source of bad dad jokes. Lisa (Nicole Ari Parker) makes for a solid partner-in-crime, and the two could benefit from additional joint missions (like when they try to hire the same sought-after college tutor), especially since dapper director Lisa is otherwise stranded to the same repeated plot beats: She’s taking too long to finish her PBS documentary, and she’s not helping at all with her husband’s campaign for comptroller. Seema (Sarita Choudhury) fares slightly better, as she strides with Samantha’s unwavering confidence through major life changes (at work and at home), while deploying her savvy to help Carrie and Miranda out of various jams.
So far, Season 3 doesn’t stir the same intense emotions as previous half-seasons of “And Just Like That.” (Six of the 12 episodes were made available for review.) Part of that stems from fewer bizarre storytelling choices (good!), and part of it is a byproduct of an overly cautious attitude toward character development (bad). None of it will please the dedicated audience who tunes in to scream at their televisions, but the easy-breezy episodic arcs, the apartment porn, and the endearing performances — Parker, Nixon, Davis, and Cantone all deliver — make Season 3 the series’ smoothest start yet.
If it can just speed past one more indefensible relationship — or at least firmly frame it as a mistake — maybe “And Just Like That” can actually start carving its own path. Until then, I’ll settle for a capable retread.
Grade: C+
“And Just Like That…” Season 3 premieres Thursday, May 29 on Max. The 12-episode season concludes August 14.
