GIVE THE DEVIL ITS DUES

 

Movie
The Devil Wears Prada 2
Director David Frankel
Review Ray Chan

Somewhere between a Paris Runway and a corporate boardroom apocalypse, The Devil Wears Prada finally receives its anticipated sequel — and like a pair of stilettos found at the back of a closet, it somehow still fits.
   The Devil Wears Prada 2 reunites the icy volcanic force of Meryl Streep as Miranda Priestly, who now prowls the media landscape like a silk-swathed velociraptor trying to outrun the masses. Anne Hathaway returns as Andy Sachs, no longer the bewildered assistant in chunky sweaters, but a polished media executive whose calm competence hides the same existential panic simmering beneath her bangs 20 years ago.
   Emily Blunt also storms back into the film with sharpened cheekbones and enough deadpan venom to qualify as chemical warfare, her namesake ascending from abused assistant to terrifying luxury conglomerate titan. Meanwhile, Stanley Tucci returns as Nigel, still dispensing emotional support and scarves in equal measure, gliding through the film like the patron saint of exhausted creative directors.
   This time, Miranda fights to preserve the relevance of her Runway magazine in a world dominated by influencers, AI branding consultants, and 20-somethings reviewing couture from their bedrooms.  Most women’s glossy publications have all closed or gone digital-only. As she grimly puts it, “the September issue’s already so thin you could floss with it”. 
   Then things get complicated after publisher Irv Ravitz dies, leaving the future of Runway in the hands of his son: a Silicon Valley-coded doofus who dreams of replacing editors and models with AI. 
   Andy, naturally, becomes tangled between loyalty, ambition, and the horrifying possibility that she may actually be turning into Miranda. Again.
   The film stuffs itself with cameos like a designer handbag packed for Milan Fashion Week. There are appearances by celebrities from in and outside the fashion world, including Lady Gaga, Donatella Versace, Domenico Dolce, Stefano Gabbana, and supermodels Naomi Campbell and Heidi Klum.
   And yet — despite all the glamour, all the couture trench coats, all the exquisitely tailored insults — it doesn’t quite hit the heights of the original and its superficial sarcasm.
   The first movie succeeded because of its sharpness, a sadness, and a perfectly balanced cruelty beneath its glossy surface. The follow-up is grander, more self-aware, and occasionally very funny, but it lacks the original film’s delicious surprise.
   But maybe it’s because the novelty factor is lost. Back in 2006, nobody expected a movie about handbags and magazine deadlines to become a modern workplace myth. Now the second part arrives already wearing its own legacy like an expensive coat — beautiful, tailored, and just a little heavy.
   Still, spending two more hours in Miranda Priestly’s orbit remains deeply entertaining, and a twist ending wraps up the story satisfactorily. Florals for spring may not be groundbreaking, but watching Miranda reduce a tech billionaire to ash with a single glance certainly is.

 #devilwearsprada2