REEL | Anne Hathaway Suddenly Sees 'The Devil Wears Prada 2'

"Stockholm called. It wants its syndrome back."

20th Century Studios

The fashionable duo of Anne Hathaway and Meryl Streep reunite for The Devil Wears Prada 2, the fashion magazine comedy sequel to the highly rewatchable 2006 literary adaptation about bad bosses, toxic workplaces, and career sacrifices with a decidedly female focus. Twenty years later, much has changed as we explore the contemporary problems of running a once-glamorous and powerful global print brand with humour and plenty of style.

Once again, the second film is written economically by accomplished screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna and stylishly directed by veteran filmmaker David Frankel, based on magazine writer Lauren Weisberger's bestselling roman à clef "chick-lit" novel, but notably not at all adapted from her book sequel Revenge Wears Prada, about her less-than-fond experiences as an assistant to the notorious longtime former Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour, who has since wholeheartedly embraced Streep's cheeky portrayal as Miranda Priestly. More importantly, the first film's all-star MVPs, both Emily Blunt as her namesake and Stanley Tucci, who have since become in-laws, are both back to lift up and challenge Hathaway's still wide-eyed but more assertively confident Andy Sachs, now a full-fledged, award-winning but recently unemployed journalist.

Most of TDWP2 balances its chic but excessively vapid sense of celebrity culture with the comfort of mid-budget situational comedies. Outside of the core characters doing their jobs, few get much of any real development past their usefulness to the fashion media drama of the sequel's unrealistic storyline. Famous faces like Justin Theroux, Kenneth Branagh, Lucy Liu, B.J. Novak, and many other familiar people serve the superfluous plot revolving around the costly funding of a no longer powerhouse print conglomerate, itself a thinly veiled, fictionalized version of Condé Nast.

The Devil Wears Prada 2, as a legacy comedy sequel, squares its disposability with an enjoyable competence to the "girlboss" workplace drama. It's a lightly drawn exploration of the harsh economic realities of the publishing world's implosion that barely goes beyond lip service to the rapidly declining influence of original journalism. However, everyone gets their assignment right by reheating enough of the original's ensemble magic and watchability with some current touches to keep it fresh. Streep, Hathaway, Blunt, and Tucci remain sparkling in their chemistry together. It gives us most of what we want from a Devil Wears Prada sequel while making the dated media landscape a feature and not a bug.


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