… and just like bat
Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha all possess appetites for a better life that they repress as a matter of survival but cannot conceal. Carrie craves dominion of the city and its inhabitants whom she despises; Miranda hungers for peace and solitude; Charlotte is starved for certainty in eternity; and Samantha — the most openly appetitive of the quartet, who cannot even be undercut by the most outlandish story moments for her punishment — is ravenous for some goddamn satisfaction. If each of these women, governed by the laws of mortality and HBO programming, ultimately succumb to pressures to erode their humanity for fear of being seen as freaks, I couldn’t help but wonder… What freedoms might they only ever taste by becoming actual monsters?




















