Rattlebones’s review published on Letterboxd:
Pretend I watched more than the first part.
While it's true, probably, that New York is much worse now than in the 1970s, despite the urban blight, the murders, the rapes, the police brutality (it was even worse then believe it or not), the hate crimes, the petty crimes, the slum lords, and so on, I don't care.
What value is this kind of nostalgia? It's probably great for the older people who lived through it, and this is a reminder of a world they understood, not like the confusing one of 2021 where they have smart microwaves and children in their 30s and 40s who are still economically precarious, and not in the fun way of the 1970s.
But for the rest of us? We're given a choice of the inherent elitism of buying into this myth, that we understand and relate to it, that our own anxieties about the modern world are more similar to one of the last generations that grew up in a time where inequality hadn't calcified into a caste system, that the beneficiaries of Giuliani's and Bloomberg's visions of New York, who could live off a couple free lance gigs a year, or allow that we're actually not that much alike, shared humanities educations notwithstanding. That our experience of Times Square as being the location of the M&M store and an Olive Garden instead of a bunch of porno theatres is valid, too, and actually maybe even provides more material for comedy.
Fran can be funny, sometimes. Usually when she's punching up, like at Trump or some other New York socialite that goes viral. But despite Marty's incessant laughter (at least he was having a good time), this was really not very funny at all, and no matter where and when you are living, that's the most important thing.