Of the many appropriately vicious reviews that greeted Sex and the City 2 this summer, my favorite belonged to Matt Zoller Seitz, writing for the Independent Film Channel. The Sex sequel, his essay concluded, is “an accidental candid snapshot of the sick, dying heart of America, a film so pleased with its vacuous, trashy, art-free extravagance that its poster should be taped to the dingy walls of terrorist sleeper agents worldwide. . . . Ladies and gentlemen, this is why they hate us.”

I hate to even quibble with such a perfect takedown. But after sitting through Eat Pray Love, the …