And Just Like That Season 3 Review

Cue the Carrie Bradshaw voiceover: “Some things are worth the wait.” She’d probably be talking about the perfect pair of Manolos or a rent-controlled apartment in the West Village, but, really, she’d be talking about women like her (and us), still figuring it all out well into their 50s. Because if there’s one thing Sex and the City has always done, it’s wrapping real-life mess in a shiny metaphor — preferably while wearing couture.

Now in its third season, And Just Like That…,the Sex and the City reboot that’s been as divisive as it is persistent, might actually be finding its groove. After two seasons of awkward growing pains, questionable writing choices, and a desperate scramble to modernise, the show is, somewhat miraculously, starting to click.

Going into this season, I couldn’t help but wonder: How many chances do we give a reboot before we call it quits? Six episodes into Season 3, the answer’s still murky — but for once, it feels like our loyalty might actually be paying off.

Let’s be honest: the first two seasons of And Just Like That were… rough. The show bent over backwards to fix its original sins, its lack of diversity, its privilege problem by cramming in a slew of new characters and storylines that rarely felt organic. In the process, it transformed Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) from a grounded, sharp-witted lawyer into a cringey mess fumbling through her sexuality and fleeing her marriage for the human Twitter thread that is Che Diaz (Sara Ramirez). Not ideal.

But for those of us who’ve stuck around, maybe out of nostalgia or sheer curiosity. Season 3 feels like a reset. Gone is the chaos of a dozen side characters. The focus is now on five core women: Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), Miranda, Charlotte (Kristin Davis), Lisa Todd Wexley (Nicole Ari Parker), and Seema Patel (Sarita Choudhury). Things with the new characters and their interaction with the OG’s feel tighter and more intentional.

The premiere, sadly, doesn’t start strong. It’s packed with so much setup that it feels more like a catch-up email than an episode. Carrie’s still long-distance with Aidan, Charlotte’s dealing with her dog’s park drama, Lisa’s filming a documentary, Seema’s going through yet another breakup, and Miranda is… well, still flailing.

But stick with it, because Episode 2, written by SATC veterans Julie Rottenberg and Elisa Zuritsky, is where things finally snap into place. There’s a clear theme, actual laughs, and callbacks to what made the original series work. It goes through Carrie deleting and rewriting messages to Aidan, a smart stand-in for her iconic voiceovers. Cheri Oteri guest stars as a “Millionaire Matchmaker”-type and absolutely nails it, and Kristin Schaal shows up as a hilariously intense college consultant. Even Miranda gets a solid moment of self-awareness, discovering the cathartic joy of hate-watching.

From there, the show begins to build some real momentum. New romantic interests (Jonathan Cake and Dolly Wells) are charming but not distracting. The tone matures as it grapples with aging, illness, and even grief, themes that suit these characters far more than forced conversations about TikTok or microdosing ever did.

Of course, it’s still a mixed bag. And Just Like That continues to ignore the absurd wealth of its characters in a time when that kind of tone-deaf luxury can feel more alienating than aspirational. And it bizarrely avoids deeper explorations of topics like menopause, a missed opportunity for a show that once thrived on taboo-busting honesty.

It also can’t quite compete with more sophisticated series currently mining similar territory — think The White Lotus, Your Friends and Neighbours, or anything starring Nicole Kidman in the suburbs. Those shows are sharper, more self-aware, and far more willing to interrogate the privilege and pretension baked into their characters’ lives. AJLT, by comparison, still wants to have its $12 cupcake and eat it too.

But here’s the thing: when And Just Like That stops trying to be something new and just leans into what it’s always been, a heightened, stylish, emotionally messy look at women navigating life together, it still works. It’s no longer trying to recapture the magic of Sex and the City. Instead, it’s starting to evolve into something adjacent: a drama-comedy about aging, change, and staying connected as the world (and your body, and your apps) moves on without you.

We’ve still got six episodes to go, and anything can happen. But for the first time in a long while, And Just Like That feels like it’s earning its place in the reboot canon — not because it’s perfect, but because it’s finally learning how to grow up.

And just like that… the show finally finds its stride in season 3.

Catch weekly episodes only on Max