The Devil Wears Prada - Palm Beach Post movie review

'The Devil Wears Prada': Fashion at its least alluring

By HAP ERSTEIN
Palm Beach Post

The trailer for The Devil Wears Prada, the movie adapted from Lauren Weisberger's dishy bestseller about the fashion industry, shows the staff of Runway Magazine scurrying in panic around the chic publication's offices in anticipation of the arrival of Miranda Priestly, the hellish editor in chief.

20th Century Fox

'The Devil Wears Prada'

The verdict: A sour satire of the fashion world, strictly surface deep, despite Streep's devilish efforts.

Director: David Frankel
Starring: Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway, Emily Blunt, Tracie Thoms, Adrian Grenier
Run time: 106 minutes
Release date: June 30, 2006
Rating: PG-13 for some sensuality.
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The scene seems like it will be fun — so the trailer certainly does its job — but the movie turns out to be exceedingly sour. For most of its hour-and-three-quarters, Miranda (Meryl Streep, doing her best to bring shadings to a one-dimensional role) berates and abuses her new assistant, Northwestern University graduate Andrea Sachs (Anne Hathaway), who has high aspirations of becoming a crusading journalist.

Over and over again.

This may be someone's idea of entertainment, or perhaps we are supposed to feel relieved that no matter how bad our own workplace conditions are, at least we do not have bosses as blithely unreasonable as Miranda. Comedy is, after all, tragedy that happens to somebody else. But over time, Andy develops a begrudging admiration for the loony Miranda, who insults her duckling-turned-swan underling with the intended compliment that she sees a lot of herself in Andy.

If there were an Oscar category for mixed messages, The Devil Wears Prada would be a shoo-in for a nomination.

Weisberger was once an assistant to Vogue's notorious Anna Wintour and presumably her revenge novel is not far off from the truth. Surely you could see this movie as a metaphor for any satanic boss, but if you have never heard of Wintour or — like Andy — have no discernible interest in fashion, you might as well give this movie a pass.

For one of its more interesting aspects is how Hathaway — unconvincingly frumpy and dismissively called "fat" — gets taken under the wing of the magazine's fey art director (Stanley Tucci) and begins selling her soul for couture office wear and yummy handbags. This keeps the film's costume designer Patricia Field plenty busy, most noticeably in a commercial-like sequence where Hathaway changes outfits every two seconds.

Naturally, being forced to answer Miranda's cellphone pages at all hours gets in the way of Andy's relationship with boyfriend Nate (Adrian Grenier). But he turns out to be a scold, berating her for choosing her job over him. It is hard to find anyone to like in this movie, though Emily Blunt does steal a few scenes as Miranda's snooty veteran assistant, perpetually looking down her nose at eager-to-please Andy.

Although it spends most of its time with Andy, the movie belongs to silver-haired Streep, who slightly broadens the power-wielding senator she played in The Manchurian Candidate. And while she never earns our sympathy, she comes close in a makeup-free scene in which she improbably confides in Andy how her marriage has come apart, a victim of her obsessive work ethic.

Television director David Frankel keeps The Devil Wears Prada in motion, as if we would not notice its contradictions if the camera moved fast enough. The fashion world is depicted with lots of shiny surfaces and, unfortunately, the movie is surface deep.