Director: David Frankel
Stars: Stanley Tucci, Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep
In late 2016, having been diminished from a physical publication to an online-only presence, the once a-political Teen Vogue gained sudden currency and traction thanks to Lauren Duca’s op-ed piece “Donald Trump is Gaslighting America”. When much of the media landscape was stumbling over how to articulate or challenge the incoming administration, this shot fired from a youth fashion magazine caught attention. In that same spirit of gumption, screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna and director David Frankel – the creative team behind the iconic first The Devil Wears Prada – use this cash-in opportunity for a legacy sequel to direct something substantive at its audience; a damning reflection of the state of print journalism as well as our own attitudes toward it. It says something about the state of things right now when the year’s frothiest, flimsiest bit of movie escapism feels duty-bound to address such woes, but The Devil Wears Prada 2 takes on this responsibility with the spirit of Teen Vogue. It gives us what we need while not forgetting to also give us what we want.
It’s been 20 years since Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) walked away from steely editor-in-chief Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) and Runway magazine. In that time she’s built an awards-worthy career in journalism, only to find her publication abruptly gutted by cutbacks and her entire team fired. Fortune lands in her lap, however, when a PR snafu at Runway over a piece of inaccurate investigative reporting casts Miranda and the magazine in an unfavourable light. Media mogul Irv Ravitz (Tibor Feldman) drafts Andy in to makeover the tarnished brand. Andy is reunited with her doting advocate Nigel (Stanley Tucci, stealing all scenes) and a much-bemused and out-of-the-loop Miranda.
But times have changed Runway. Miranda isn’t quite the imposing force she once was. The media landscape now means that the publication needs to kowtow to its sponsors. Advertising rules the roost. If the lights are to stay on, these corporations must be appeased. Andy isn’t used to seeing Miranda in the role of reluctant supplicant, and neither are we. Chief among the brands in need of satisfaction are Chanel; the New York offices now overseen by Andy’s former rival Emily Charlton (Emily Blunt). How the tables have turned.
The Devil Wears Prada 2 sets its stall in motion with a largely impressive nimbleness, getting us up-to-date speedily while using each scene to roll the story forward and add additional elements around the peripheries. Legacy sequels need to be all things to all people, making them often rather thankless excursions. Brosh McKenna uses the opportunity to talk frankly about our attention spans, the precarious evolution of publishing, the threat of AI thinking as well as acquiescing to all the things this movie needs to be for a broad audience. She folds in a new romantic angle for Andy that actually plays very nicely, includes a classic meet-cute and most importantly doesn’t replicate her last fling with the odious Christian. There are callbacks and cameos, yes, but they’re positioned in ways that make sense in the context of the story, rather than dumbly waved at us for the sake of meaningless recognition. This is a sequel that compliments and progresses it’s progenitor. It reconfigures familiar story beats, yes, but in ways that reflect the passing of time in the interim, exposing cruel ironies. It’s nostalgia with purpose.
Spreading the characters out a little means that the flow and cattiness is a little stilted but, to the creative team’s credit, there’s a lot to wrangle here. This is a relatively – maybe even appropriately – mature follow-up, and so it doesn’t have quite the same rate of immediately iconic lines. It’s a bit less quotable. For the fashionistas, however, everyone is onboard, as The Devil Wears Prada 2 represents a credible advertising space. This was always going to be a gold rush opportunity for product placement, and all the big designers are here. But again, this is perhaps the most-appropriate space for such flagrant consumer propaganda – within the context of the industry it’s a part of. Indeed, their importance has been made part of the movie’s text. The foregrounded cans of crisp Diet Coke almost carry a meta-textual irony.
Everyone gets their time to shine. Hathaway turns on the devastating charm for a date with Patrick Brammell’s architect Peter (another avenue through which TDWP2 manages to comment on regressive progression), but she’s as impressive when showing off Andy’s accumulated integrity. Blunt steps right back into the barbed heels of her old foil Emily. Tucci, as intimated, is in his element. He just is Nigel. And Streep brings a new vulnerability to Miranda reflective of a career businesswoman coming to the end of her reign, her arena much changed. Even Tracie Thoms is back as Andy’s perennial bestie Lily, and it’s more than just a walk-on reminder. The new additions are great, too, with particular shout-outs to Helen J. Shin as Andy’s plucky Gen-Z assistant Jin, Kenneth Branagh as Miranda’s appreciably supportive new husband Stuart and… whatever it is Justin Theroux is doing as ridiculous tech-bro billionaire Benji Barnes.
It’s all still a frivolous, comforting cupcake of an experience (in the real world, there usually aren’t billionaire connections waiting in the peripheries to dangle salvation over threatened businesses), but providing that warm-glow, glossy escapism is The Devil Wears Prada‘s job. We bemoan the lack of these pictures in the modern cinematic landscape. Well here’s one that understands and fulfills the mandate, and boasts a knockout Lady Gaga performance in Milan. That it does all this while having Something To Say about the industry and our relationship to it is all the more impressive, and makes up for the somewhat inevitable sense of fade. The Devil Wears Prada 2 can never be the same movie again; the one that launched a Broadway musical version of itself. But it can look back at what it once achieved with a satisfied if aching smile.
The Lost Highway Hotel 