After two disappointing seasons as flat as a loafer shoe that Carrie Bradshaw wouldn't be caught dead in, And Just Like That the sequel to Sex And The City, is finally hitting the right note.
The reboot has struggled to morph sex columnist and reformed serial-dater Carrie Bradshaw and her friends Miranda and Charlotte into menopausal midlifers without their fourth wheel, the feisty, sex-crazed PR Samantha Jones.
The initial storylines prioritised diversity and social justice, while shoehorning in tediously earnest characters.
But, returning this week for a third series, the writers seem to have learnt from their mistakes.
Having watched six episodes, I have to say that we're not home and dry... but it's looking good. They have ditched the woke mess of the earlier episodes in favour of more sex, more fashion and more fun.
In the last series, newly widowed Carrie, played by Sarah Jessica Parker, reconnected with her ex-fiancé Aidan (John Corbett), now a Virginia farmer.
Series three sees the pair embark on a long-distance relationship. Come on, there's no way a city fashionista like Carrie would thrive as a farmer's wife and the plotline has nowhere to go.
Even their clumsy attempt at phone sex is a snooze fest!
So maybe the writers will come up with a zeitgeist way of killing off Aidan, as they did with Carrie's husband Big, who had a heart attack while riding his Peloton in series one. An allergic reaction to Ozempic perhaps?
Thankfully, a promising new love interest emerges in the shape of Carrie's grouchy new downstairs neighbour Duncan, a famous British writer with whom she has instant chemistry.
And he isn't the only Brit bringing the romance. Late-life lesbian Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), following an unlikely one-night stand, ends up dating plummy-voiced BBC producer Joy, played by Dolly Wells.
The Carrie and Aidan story isn't the only aspect of And Just Like That to stretch credulity - very few women pushing 60 teeter around in five-inch heels and precious few full-time working women (as Charlotte and Miranda claim to be) are able to meet for endless coffee/lunch/shopping trips at the drop of a hat.
So, some scenes are silly, but others do hit home. Carrie's struggles with technology when it comes to her home alarm system and video doorbell will be familiar to many.
Charlotte finding herself 'cancelled' by the 'dog mum' community when her bulldog is mistakenly identified as attacking another mutt in Central Park is also cleverly done.
And it's genuinely hilarious when Charlotte and Lisa (Nicole Ari Parker) resort to desperate measures to secure the services of New York's most in-demand tutor, nicknamed 'the Ivy whisperer' due to her ability to get kids into Ivy League colleges.
There's a nod to all of the middle-aged women rushing to get diagnosed with ADHD, while Charlotte and her husband are baffled by their daughter's 'poly' (polyamorous) boyfriend.
The void left by Samantha is mostly filled by the sassy Seema (Sarita Choudhury), Carrie's sharp-tongued real estate agent friend.
Still single in her 50s, she gives a professional matchmaker short shrift when told she needs to be more demure and dress in ladylike pastels if she wants to snare a man.
Fashion is still at the core of the show with the actresses changing outfits several times per episode. Some of the clothes are stunning, others are just daft.
An enormous cloth hat by Maryam Keyhani that Carrie wears in one episode makes her look like the Artful Dodger.
Another scene, in which Carrie's sexy new neighbour complains about the noise her shoes make on her wooden floors, was clearly devised as an excuse to give us a set-to-music montage of her fabulous heel collection.
Contrived, yes, but still frothy good fun.
As the 'girls' teeter towards bus pass age, it's good to have them getting back to form - even though every single episode still leaves you thinking how much more enjoyable it would be if Samantha Jones was there.
