Courtney Howard // Film Critic
Rated PG-13, 1 hour and 59 minutes
Directed by: David Frankel
Starring: Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway, Emily Blunt, Stanley Tucci, Justin Theroux, Simone Ashley, Kenneth Branagh, Lucy Liu, Tracie Thoms, Caleb Hearon, B.J. Novak, Patrick Brammall, Rachel Bloom, Helen J Shen, Tibor Feldman
A large portion of being a great executive assistant is anticipating the boss’s needs. That’s what journalism’s scrappy underling Andy Sachs learned in 2006’s THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA. She also learned how to strut in highly coveted Chanel boots and reject a life full of self-serving backstabbing simply by tossing her abrasively-ringtone’d Sidekick into Paris’ Fontaine des Fleuves. So it comes as a stinging irony that its sequel, arriving 20 years later, fails to anticipate its audience’s need for a rousing, or at least satisfying story in addition to the fantasy’s glitz, gloss and glam. It’s absolutely admirable that returning director David Frankel and writer Aline Brosh McKenna ground their dramatics in reality’s ever-evolving decay and disappearance of journalistic institutions, but their chosen narrative is a patchwork of thinly connected story whims containing no suspense or surprise, coated in lots of beautiful sequins.
On the same day esteemed reporter Andrea “Andy” Sachs (Anne Hathaway) receives a prestigious press award, she and her colleagues are alerted via text message that their outlet’s parent company is shutting down and they’ve all been let go. Meanwhile across town, her demanding former boss, editor-in-chief Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep), has found herself caught in social media’s crosshairs, having unwittingly championed a sweatshop fast fashion brand in the pages of Runway Magazine. Even Elias-Clarke boss Irv Ravitz (Tibor Feldman) is livid at Miranda. In order to save the business, Irv brings Andy back into the fold to help rehab the magazine’s image and standing with readers and advertisers – one of whom is Andy’s former desk mate Emily (Emily Blunt), who’s now flourishing in a senior position at Dior.
Miranda and Andy’s reunion, however, hits snags as Miranda is tasked to re-warm up to Andy’s annoyingly chipper presence and Andy is pressed to write hit-making, high-concept fashion pieces while being styled again by Runway’s always fabulous style director Nigel (Stanley Tucci). Then a bunch of stuff happens – like Andy’s meet-cute with a new, dull love interest, contractor Peter (Patrick Brammall), and a potential deal to write a tell-all book on her boss-from-hell – before the actual plot and its unfurling conflicts kick in very late in the second act. Irv dies and his obnoxious tech-bro son Jay (B.J. Novak) threatens to dismantle Runway. Andy’s world is sent into chaos, putting her wit and skills to the ultimate test. Betrayals, backstabbing and a bombastic fashion show ensue.
Frankel and editor Andrew Marcus infuse a peppy energy into montages, specifically showing Andy’s confidence in Italy as her best accessory for her closet-raided wardrobe. There’s an undeniable electricity conducted in those sequences. The pause in the narrative momentum in the 3rd act to deliver a music video from a pop superstar (one I won’t spoil though IMDB did) feels like a throwback to ROCKY IV-era smarts in marketing a film alongside a terrific soundtrack. The filmmakers also deliver generous amounts of fan service with graceful subtlety, from Andy’s steamy mirror wipe to Nigel’s gargantuan ring getting ample camera time.
That said, the film gets as raggedy as Andy’s repurposed cerulean sweater. While the journey is aesthetically pleasing, with a landscape fashioned by production designer Jess Gonchor and her impeccably crafted worlds in addition to costume designer Molly Rogers’ brilliant designer curations, the picture’s pacing is off-balance. Frankel and McKenna front-load their sequel with contrived fluff and back-load it with many of the characters’ conflicts (like Miranda wrestling with career obsolescence and Andy struggling for survival).
Andy’s supposedly-fresh published pieces, mixing fashion and beauty with tech and eco-consciousness, are strikingly akin to what the recently shuttered, forever radical Teen Vogue Online would turn out on a slow day. Coach’s name is invoked as a derogatory slur, but it’s an antiquated pejorative from a 2006 mindset (like the “size 6” fat joke/ nickname lobbed at Andy), whereas in 2026 that brand is gaining a powerful resurgence. Moreover, it’s difficult to suspend belief that someone of Miranda’s stature in society, let alone her refined, sharp creative intelligence, would even entertain fast-fashion in her line of work hocking high-end luxury goods to those of means. It feels like a wasted opportunity that there wasn’t a more imaginative impetus to “get the band back together.”
The same can be said of injecting new blood into the Runway universe. Supporting characters like Jin (Helen J Shen), Amina (Simone Ashley) and Charlie (Caleb Hearon) are barely one-dimensional. They’re all surprisingly underwritten and underutilized, despite their opportunities for screen time where they could leave a mark. Emily’s billionaire boyfriend Benji (Justin Theroux) is a trope-addled ditz, a role that’s no better represented by a man than it is by women in rom-coms. Benji’s ex-wife Sasha (Lucy Liu) is used more as a prop than a person. Peter is a huge nothing burger, who has no internality and whose arc isn’t motivated by the woman he’s seeing. Miranda’s new supportive husband Stuart (Kenneth Branagh) is similar. He’s just there, around to open doors, hug Miranda and play the violin.
As for our beloved holdovers, McKenna has drastically and detrimentally tempered both Emily (who’s schmaltzy rather than acerbic) and Miranda (who’s softened rather than scathing). They attempt jokes about Miranda having to follow our era’s political correctness, but those fail to land. Andy’s lone concern seems to be career longevity, which might be fine with another script polish to connect with Miranda’s precarious job status. It doesn’t help that the first movie was about rejecting that very concern for a fuller, better work-life balance. At least Hathaway gets to deliver the film’s single allotted f-bomb, which is meaningfully deployed: “Journalism still f*cking matters!”
Grade: 2 out of 5
THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA 2 will be in theaters on May 1.
