May is as neurotic as Carrie Bradshaw when it comes to love. They’re both the villain and the final girl in their respective dating lives.
Just like Sex and the City, the 2002 cult classic horror film May is having a revival, especially among Gen Zers who are addicted to ’00s nostalgia. Like Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), May (Angela Bettis) is constantly obsessed with other people’s sex lives. Early on in the film, we watch May stare at the couple making out in the elevator with naked lust and a healthy dose of resentment. This is an example of the kind of unhinged antics I love in Sex and the City, and what made me fall in love with Lucky McKee’sMay.
May’s getting-ready-for-a-date montage is Sex and the City-coded. Now, is the first date in question just sitting in the courtyard making puppy dog eyes at her crush? Yes. But a gauzy black top and a slinky burgundy blouse feel like something Carrie would have in her closet, sans doll in a glass box.
And no, Carrie Bradshaw wouldn’t drive a knife’s tip into her finger for “relaxation” at the office. But someone would definitely call Carrie a “crazy bitch,” as Polly (Anna Faris) does to May. And both women know how to be crazy bitches in a cute little outfit. Besides, I feel like Carrie would befriend any audacious, frizzy-haired girl who knows her way around a sewing machine.
Courtesy of Lionsgate Films
May and Carrie: Two ‘Lover Girls’ Who Can’t be Tamed
The little freaks at the center of May and Sex and the City both have a penchant for moony-eyed romance. Anyone familiar with Darren Star and Michael Patrick King’s late ’90s / early ’00s romantic drama knows that Carrie Bradshaw, along with Miranda Hobbes, Charlotte York, and Samantha Jones, has a revolving door of lovers. In Carrie’s case, she’s stuck on this debonair, larger-than-life man called “Big.”
Stalking, romantic sabotage, crossing boundaries in a way that should necessitate a restraining order: The lengths Carrie goes to keep Mr. Big in her life are diabolical. Similarly, May has passing flirtations with men and women, but only one person remains in May’s sights. May unabashedly puts all their cards on the table for Adam (Jeremy Sisto), the object of her obsession. Nothing and nobody stands between May and the man she has deemed the apple of her eye, even if it means she constantly humiliates herself at his mercy.
From that initial lunch meeting, where May goes up to a sleeping Adam and lowers her face onto his outstretched hand, the two hang out a few more times. At some point, May goes back to Adam’s apartment, and this is where May and Sex and the City diverge, with the former looking nothing like an HBO romcom.
Sex and the City-style Escapades, With a Gory Twist
When Adam brings May back to his place, a knife on the mantle catches her eye. He picks it up and jokes about being a serial killer, ultimately driving it into May’s chest. May doesn’t even flinch. Luckily, it’s a prop knife or prank knife, with a retractable blade that doesn’t penetrate. Either way, the whole stabbing ritual serves as an aphrodisiac for May, leading to a passionate makeout between the two. In that weirdly tender moment, you could easily imagine the director panning down and showing that quintessential ‘00s romcom foot pop.
But in time, it’s clear that even if there’s sexual chemistry and a weird-kid affinity between May and Adam, the man can’t match her freak. This is where May the movie really hits home, the same way Sex and the City does. The film feels like such a deeply personal exploration of the pitfalls of dating. Adam’s cannibal romance film turns her on.
Afterward, this leads to a heated makeout session, where May bites Adam’s lip hard enough to break the skin. He’s affronted that the same woman who liked his gory, sexy cannibal film would be into blood play. Go figure. Adam abruptly gets up to leave, leading to a surprisingly heart-wrenching exchange. “May, this is weird,” Adam accuses. “You like weird,” May counters. “Not that weird,” he says. Crushing.
Why May is so Relatable That it Should be Illegal
This particular instance brings to mind how, some 20 years later, alternative women and non-binary people have become increasingly vocal online about how visibility and desirability feel like a trap. In particular, there has been talk about the “Goth GF” meme, which now feels less fun and more limiting.
While the circumstances of May are ridiculous, this movie is special because, like Sex and the City, it holds up a mirror to dating woes that continue to endure. You don’t have to be a Los Angeles vet assistant who talks to an evil doll in her closet to understand how it feels to be an ugly duckling like May. You also don’t have to be in May’s specific situation to know what it’s like to put yourself out there and have your efforts blow up in your face.
McKee layers all of May’s missteps and rejections in a way that makes it completely understandable when May finally crashes out and goes on her killing spree. Unfortunately, everyone can get some, from her crushes, to the morose doll, to Polly’s cat. Looking at Carrie Bradshaw and May side by side, in all of their psychosexual dysfunction and bad behavior, all you can do is hope that you get a little relief from journaling about dating woes, instead of killing people because of them.
