Sex and the City (1998–2004): Season 6, Episode 5 - Lights, Camera, Relationship - full transcript

Carrie drags Berger along shopping, as with Prada, and brags with a check from her publisher for success in Europe, but learns then her publisher dumped both her supervisor Courtney and Berger; when he takes her on a rather wild bike ride, she freaks out. Miranda still wrestles with her feelings for Steve; Charlotte feels a basket-case after Harry dumped her. When Samantha learns Jerry has dropped his waiter job to do a terribly bad paying play outside Manhattan he can only lure her to by promising hot sex afterward, she decides to help him by doing its PR, based on the fact he drops trou full-frontal in it, and aces its premiere.

In every relationship, there comes a time
when you take that next important step.

- Do I look all right?
- Don't worry, they'll love you.

- I just want to make the right impression.
- They'll love you because I love you.

Here we are.

For some couples,
that step is meeting the parents.

For me, it's meeting the Prada.

Holy shit.

You know, on my planet,
the clothing stores have clothes.

Ladies.

So how often do you shop here?

- Carrie.
- Hi.



I'm gonna guess more than once.

If all my customers were this beautiful, yes?

- This is my boyfriend, Jack Berger.
- How are you?

Okay, two. Bonus round. I'm down with that.

- He's funny, yes?
- Yes.

And this is his first time at Prada.

- We have some amazing new things for men.
- I'm here for my amazing new girlfriend.

Can I get you something to drink?
Cappuccino, bottled water, champagne?

- Champagne?
- Yes.

Some couples spend
Saturday afternoon shopping.

Look, everybody, it's Carrie.

Other couples spend it sexing.

- Aren't you gonna shower?
- Nope.

I want to smell you on me all night.



Dirty boy.

So how's Friday at 9:00?

I can't do Friday.

But we always do Friday, it's T.G.I. Fuckday.

- My play starts previews this week.
- Play?

I was thinking you could come check it out.

It's a kick-ass play.

"Kick-ass play."
Three words I hope never to hear again.

- Come on.
- It's in Brooklyn. I don't do borough.

Don't give me that look.

I'm the one who should be hurt.
You always spend Fridays in me.

Okay, here's the deal.

You come see me in Brooklyn...

and afterwards, I'll make sure you come...

and come and come in the bedroom.

- What do you think?
- Two things.

One, you look damn fine.

Two, I'm a little hammered.

Here, for you. Try.

Now, that is fabulous.

You know, I never say fabulous,
but if I did, I would.

That's what a real shirt looks like.

- But you will wear forever.
- Yeah, I'd have to.

Does it also somehow open
into a small studio apartment?

Carrie, tell him.

My girlfriend used to talk me into things,
and I'm a better man for it.

This is our first shopping trip together.
I want to take it slow.

So how is Claudia?

We broke up.

Yes, is tragic.

Only thing more tragic is Jack Berger
not having Prada.

What can I say, except thanks for the hooch.

Carrie, do you know any fantastic
gorgeous single women like yourself...

I could go out with?

Cheer up, sweetie.

I may have found you
the impossible dreamboat.

Straight, single, and works for Prada.

- Is he Jewish?
- What?

Did you think I would throw away
all my new religious beliefs...

just because Harry
and I are no longer together?

- Yeah.
- I am not a fair-weather Jew.

Besides, I can't even think
about dating again.

I'm way too sad about losing Harry.

Now, Charlotte, honey.
You will start dating eventually...

and by then
this Prada item may be off the rack.

If she's not ready to move on,
she's not ready to move on.

People can't move on before they're ready.

I'm just saying.

I can't even imagine dating again.
I mean, what would I say about myself?

"I was married and then I got divorced...

"then I fell in love with my divorce lawyer
and we were gonna get married...

"but then I blew it and we split up, too."

It's depressing.

Now you went and told the truth.

What are we gonna do about it?

I say we get all dressed up
and go out for drinks Friday night.

I'll wear my new Prada.

- I'm in.
- Excellent.

Shit, motherfucker fuck shit.

There's a
"Shit, motherfucker fuck shit" situation?

- I have to go to the theatre.
- They finally made that mandatory?

A new play in Brooklyn. Jerry's in it.

- So it's children's theatre?
- I think that's sweet.

It's not sweet, it's pathetic
how far a gal will go for a good fuck.

And speaking of the theatre, that night...

Miranda continued performing
her one-woman show...

I'm Not In Love With Steve.

How was life on the playground?

The little bratty girl had a birthday.

Bratty had a birthday?

Yep, here.

I scammed you a cupcake. It's chocolate.
I had to fight for it.

For me? Thanks.

I'm getting a gut from all the cupcake action
on that playground.

You don't have a gut.

Okay, so I gotta run.
I wanna get home to see the Knicks game.

Why don't you watch it here?

I pay for ESPN and all,
and I've got all this extra food and all.

Unless you have plans with someone,
in which case...

Debbie's got shit to do.

I wouldn't be crowding you?

For the guy who scammed me
the chocolate cupcake.

Cool.

The Knicks overtime
turned into Steve's overnighter.

All right, now I have to call somebody.
You have a Prada abuse problem.

I do, do I? Here.

For you.

It's the "I never say fabulous"
fabulous shirt.

Carrie, thanks, but you can't afford this.

You can't afford
that stuff you bought yourself.

Last week I couldn't, but voil?.

It's a check from our publishers.
They sold my book in Paris.

It's an advance from France.

That's quite an advance.

I know, I can't believe it.
Half off at home, big deal in France.

I'm the literary Jerry Lewis.

So, you see, you have to have
the "I never say fabulous" fabulous shirt...

because you are the most fabulous...

of all the fabulous men
who never say "fabulous."

Okay, thank you.

I'm starving. What looks good?

The next day I met Miranda
and little lord Brady...

for an early evening walk.

If I get tired in about a block,
can you push me around in that?

Sure.

Steve slept over the other night.

On the couch.

We were watching the Knicks game
and it got late.

Someone's gonna get hurt.

Carrie, I can't help it.
It was the most fun I've had in a long time.

- I like being around him.
- Then tell him that, I beg of you.

- He has a girlfriend, did you forget?
- No, did you?

- No.
- He probably already knows how you feel.

No way, I'm acting my ass off.

There is no Academy Award for that,
just so you know.

My God, Courtney. Hi.

- Carrie Bradshaw, the toast of Europe.
- Hardly.

Miranda, this is Courtney, my publisher.

Ex-publisher. I just got the boot.
Hence the gin.

I'm gonna go home
and make myself a welfare martini.

Wait. Why?

"Disappointing sales in my sector."

- I'm sorry.
- "Fuck them."

If it weren't for the European interest
in your book...

I'd have gotten the boot a week ago
when they started dropping all my authors.

How's Berger handling it?
He's so frigging talented. I can't stand it.

They should've never dropped
his second book option.

Shortsighted A-holes.
You tell him to get the phone book out...

and give me a call
if he needs a drinking buddy.

Cute kid. See you.

Berger never said anything to me.

My God.

And I'm running around buying him shirts
and shoving my big check in his face.

- You didn't know.
- God, I feel awful.

Why did I have to parade in
and brag about that check?

Because you're proud of it.
And you earned it.

- It's okay to be proud of it.
- This is not good.

So what now? Should I tell him I know?

Maybe you should wait till he brings it up.

Move over, Brady, I'm getting tired.

And in Central Park...

Not him. Gay.

Gay and doesn't know it.

Here. Pale with no arms,
straight, and Jewish.

Please, Harry and I just broke up.

Char, you loved Harry, I loved Harry.

We all loved Harry.
But it's been two weeks. Next.

No next. It doesn't work like that.

It do, and it better, because you are knock,
knock, knocking on sad-gal door.

And nobody loves a sad gal.

You don't understand what this feels like.

You've never...

- Never mind.
- What? I've never what?

Lost the love of my life? Wrong.

Paolo. Brazilian. Broke my heart.

- I've never gotten over him.
- Anthony.

Had an ass
like two scoops of butter pecan ice cream.

Him. I could see you with him.

- I'm not interested.
- You better get interested...

or you're gonna end up all alone
and with no mans.

Maybe I am.

Would that be the worst thing
that could happen?

Nice day to get laid.

The corn.

Harvested.

The hay.

Harvested.

My youth?

Samantha wondered
if perhaps she'd judged the arts too quickly.

So was it worth the trip?

I'm not usually a fan of the theater,
but get your cock out.

- Did you like the play?
- I felt like I was hit with a tranquilizer dart.

- Did you at least like my monologue?
- What monologue?

After you dropped trou,
all I could think was...

I got to get me some of that.

This.

I hope the critics like it more than you.

I quit my restaurant job today.

They wouldn't let me off to do the play.

- So fuck them. Maybe it'll be a big hit.
- How?

The promotion of this thing
is all out of whack.

You have this pathetic, sad little flyer...

and nowhere on it does it say
the most important thing about the play.

- What's that?
- Full frontal, you, naked.

Now, that's a reason to go to the theater.

- Who's doing the P.R.?
- No one.

They don't have money
for that kind of thing.

We're getting paid, like, $30.

Is this really what you want to do
with your life?

Stand in an empty theater
talking some harvest-to-harvest bullshit?

Yeah. I love it. I'm an actor.

Then I'm gonna help you.

You're gonna help me be an actor?

No, I'm gonna help you be a star.

Look, if I have to go see you act,
there better be a red carpet involved.

I don't need help.
All I gotta do is work on my craft.

All you have to do is work on your abs.

But we have to do something
about your name.

Jerry Jerrod. Awful.

- Stop talking.
- Whatever you say.

Matt? Toby?

Ryan.

Is something wrong?

No, I'm just preoccupied.

Berger, it's okay. I know.

About the book option.

I bumped into Courtney a few days ago.

- Why didn't you say anything sooner?
- Because I didn't know if...

- Does anyone else know?
- Like who?

Any of your friends?

Miranda was with me, but she...

- I don't want her to know.
- She's fine, it's no big deal.

It is to me.

No, I meant to her.

Right.

I'm sorry.

What do you have to be sorry about?

The shirt and the check. I feel awful.
I would never...

This has nothing to do with that.

I think that check is great.

Don't feel bad about that. You earned that.

Good for you.

I'm proud of you.

Berger, do you want me
to talk to my new editor?

Jesus Christ. No, thank you.

It's just a dropped option.

I'll be fine.

Yes, you will be.

Because you're great.

He grunted. End of discussion.

- I shouldn't have said anything.
- Look, when men are failing...

- Berger is not failing.
- Fine, when men are flailing...

Okay, yes, there's a bit of a flail.

...they need strong women
to charge in there and help.

Like I did with Smith Jerrod.

- Who?
- Jerry. I changed his name.

I'm helping him with his career...

and Smith is the perfect name
for the next big thing.

"Smith Jerrod, the next it boy, is so it...

"that the glitterati are migrating to Brooklyn
to see him act."

Are the glitterati migrating to Brooklyn?

Yes, you are.
I got tickets for us all opening night.

Invite everyone fabulous you know,
and dress up.

I've got a whole red-carpet thing happening.

Why are you doing all this?

He's 28 and making $30 a week.

The poor guy was dying.
I could help, so I did.

And he isn't threatened
by you offering to help?

No, he's a whole different generation.

Younger guys aren't threatened
by strong women having power.

Is it a whole generation or just him?

As women's roles evolve and change,
we assume that men's do as well.

There are hundreds upon hundreds
of articles...

written about the new man.

But does this new man really exist?

Perhaps he's just the old man...

renamed and repackaged
by some clever P.R. Woman.

Are the men of today less threatened
by a woman's power...

or are they just acting?

Hang on.

You're early.

- Am I?
- Yeah.

- You look nice.
- Do I?

Looks like it's someone else's turn
to make cupcakes.

That is so cute.

I never did it before,
but it can't be that hard, right?

- Do I look like the baking type?
- Right.

"Mix batter in a large bowl."

Okay, here's a bowl.

Look at me, I'm baking.

Miranda, you don't have to do that.

Someone needs to help you,
and Brady really has no motor skills.

One condition: I get to lick the bowl.

Deal. I have the milk and eggs right here.

You really are gonna score points
on the playground this week.

It's not for the playground.
They're birthday cupcakes for Debbie.

Fun.

We're having a party,
and she said she didn't want a cake...

but she didn't say anything about cupcakes.

So how many cupcakes are we making?

H-A-P-P-Y-B-l-R-T-H-D-A-Y-D-E-B-B-l-E.

- 20.
- 20. Great.

20 little Debbie cakes later...

- That's bad, right?
- Here, let me do it.

Shit. It's 6:30.

I gotta go to work.

Okay, let's just... I'll finish those later.

Just go. I'll do it.
You can't do letters anyway.

- Really, you sure?
- Go.

Thanks. Miranda, you're the best.

- Jello.
- I'm not going, I'm not up for it.

If I'm going to the theater,
you're going to the theater.

- I can't.
- Are you all right? What's wrong?

I'm at Steve's, and he had to go to work...

and I got stuck helping him
make 20 cupcakes...

for his girlfriend's birthday.

- Why would he ask you do that?
- He didn't.

I thought they were for the playground,
and then it was too late to back out.

It's my own fault.
What did I think would happen?

He would see how great I make cupcakes
and be back in love with me?

Damn it! I fucked up Debbie's "B."

- Put down the icing.
- I have to finish.

Debbie cannot have your tears. No way.

If I don't finish,
Steve will know something's up.

Miranda, you can't make those cupcakes
and live with yourself.

Move away from the icing.

- What'll I tell Steve?
- Blame the baby.

That's what they're there for.

- I put it down.
- Good girl.

God, that's Berger in a cab.
I'm not dressed yet. Listen to me.

You get out of there,
you go home, and I'll call you later, okay?

- Okay. I love you. Bye-bye.
- Me too. Bye.

Surprise.

That's not a cab.

No, this'll be much more fun.

I haven't had her out on the open road
for a long time.

I'm not really dressed very biker chick.

- Prada and all.
- It'll be fine, come on.

Not to be a total girl about it...

but I really can't have the helmet hair...

when there's a red carpet situation.

We haven't been out on this thing
the whole time we've been dating.

I really want to take the bike tonight.

Think about how much fun it's gonna be
going over the Brooklyn Bridge.

Come on, Carrie. For me?

All right, just don't go fast.

Good hat, huh?

There is a little-known relationship law.

When your man is down and out,
you have to get up and on.

I told you not to go fast.

It wasn't that fast.

It just feels fast because you're on the bike.

Bullshit.

Couldn't you feel my hands
digging into you?

- Yeah, I thought you were excited.
- I was terrified.

All right, calm down, you're safe.

I am not gonna die on a bridge...

so that you can feel like some big man
on a bike.

- What the fuck does that mean?
- You know exactly what it means.

And I am sorry,
but I'm not sorry I made that money.

I worked really hard for it,
and I never thought you would be...

the type of guy
that would have a problem with that.

Neither did I. But I guess I do, don't I?

I'm sorry about the bike.

Are you gonna look at me?

I didn't think I was going that fast.
I'm sorry, I'll never do it again.

Well, I'll never get on that bike again.

Look, I don't want to be this guy.

I don't want to be the guy threatened
by your success.

I swear to God, I will do anything,
I'll do whatever it takes.

I don't want to be this guy.

I think you are magnificent.

I do.

That was for the helmet.

Come on, let's get this over with.

Carrie, over here. Right here, Carrie.

They know you?

I used to be a party girl.

Can we get one alone?

- Yeah, sure.
- No, we're together.

- What's his name?
- Jack Berger. He's a writer, too.

Lovely, thanks a lot. Cheers.

They just do that
so that they can get it right for the papers.

This just isn't my night.

Look, I'm really not up to going in.

I'll just wreck it for everybody.
Would it be okay if I took off?

You can get home with the girls, right?

You okay?

"Hello, gorgeous."

That is the worst Barbra Streisand
I have ever heard.

When in Brooklyn, do as the Brooklyns do.

Speaking of the worst,
I have, like, the worst seat I've ever had.

Not anymore you don't.
You're sitting with me.

And speaking of "one alone"...

Charlotte sat in the theater
surrounded by couples...

and in one, clear, crystallized moment...

she felt what her life would be like
with no mans.

Miranda's not coming.

So my friend Tony from Prada
is sitting next to you.

Hello.

After all, what single girl in New York
would turn down a gift from Prada?

All of Manhattan is here.

Who's watching the Island?

My youth?

The rain came down.

Hard, then soft.

It hit the grass.

Green, then wet.

Wet, so wet.

It reminded me of you.

You always smelled like the rain.

A stud is born.

That night Smith Jerrod's Full Moon
became a sensation.

- Full frontal, and he can act.
- Who knew?

- Where's Berger?
- He left.

He's coming down with a cold.

- I'll see you later.
- Okay. Good night.

- You want to come out with me?
- Sure.

Maybe we were all acting, all the time.

And tonight I was playing the part
of the woman in the great relationship...

whose boyfriend
was coming down with a cold.

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