(Image: 20th Century Studios)
"The Devil Wears Prada" is quite possibly the most culturally influential film of the modern era that, while serving as a stand-in for the fashion world, has very little to do with it. It's universally considered a fashion movie, yet even when fashion brands don't actively reference it, fashion media and bloggers treat it as the holy grail of the genre. The reason it broke out of its niche and captivated audiences who couldn't care less about fashion is precisely because it maintains a certain distance from that world—much like its protagonist, Andrea Sachs.
In "The Devil Wears Prada," fashion is merely the backdrop, one that could arguably be replaced. The story's core was never truly about fashion. It was about realizing you've lost your way, that you've strayed from your original purpose. And if you do realize it, are you willing to cut your losses and walk away? More precisely, it taps into the common experience of taking a job to "support your dream," only for that job to gradually consume your life, eroding your passion and making your original goal a distant memory.
(Image: 20th Century Studios)
This fading of purpose can happen for many reasons—a demanding workload, unstable income—but a more common, yet seldom discussed, scenario is becoming too good at the job. Life becomes stable, and that stability brings comfort and a sense of accomplishment. Gradually, you're seduced by this stability, unwilling to give it up for the uncertainty of an ideal. And just like that, your life is set. This is the true story of "The Devil Wears Prada," the reason it captured the zeitgeist, became a cultural touchstone, and inspires countless rewatches. You don't have to be interested in fashion to deeply resonate with Andrea's journey.
Thankfully, the creative team behind the original has forgotten none of the keys to its success. "The Devil Wears Prada 2" remains laser-focused on that same spirit, hitting every mark. The sequel is still not really about fashion, but it also avoids the common trap of simply replicating the first film's formula. Instead, it pivots to tackle the growing pains of the modern media industry's transformation. On the surface, this is a vastly different topic, but interestingly, it subtly circles back to the original's themes of being lost and finding one's purpose.
(Image: 20th Century Studios)
In the sequel, it's the entire media ecosystem that has lost its way. Nigel, Miranda, and Andrea, all hesitant to conform to the changing landscape, find their mission is to help the industry rediscover its soul. The scope of the second film is immediately broadened. It's no longer a simple urban comedy about a young woman's personal growth; it evolves into a media-focused drama akin to "The Post" or "Broadcast News." While the journalists in "The Devil Wears Prada 2" aren't exposing a massive scandal, the film shares a structural and spiritual DNA with those movies, centering on a collective effort to defend a fading value system.
This genre shift demands a pace that is not just fast, but meticulously so. The film is in combat mode from the moment the lights go down. A crisis erupts quickly, and the key players assemble to strategize, then disperse to execute their plans. It's a risky narrative structure, one that could easily lose focus amidst a flood of information and subplots. Yet, "The Devil Wears Prada 2" handles every element with poise—much like how an evolved Andrea eventually learned to manage Miranda's complex schedule, earning her boss's respect. The sequel features a vastly larger supporting cast, but each new character has a clear function and distinct personality. The writers and director know exactly where to place them and what their purpose is, leaving no impression of them being redundant or useless.
(Image: 20th Century Studios)
The way the sequel reunites its principal characters is also brilliant, re-establishing familiar interactive patterns while infusing them with a dynamic completely different from the first film. Years have passed, and both Andreas and Emily have built their own successful careers. Even if their work brings them back together, their old power dynamic could never be the same. I love that a shared crisis reconnects them, but they aren't all on the same side. In a surprising twist, Emily becomes the film's ultimate villain, seeking revenge—in a sense, she becomes the new Jacqueline.
How the media industry can balance clicks with traditional principles is a problem too complex for one film to solve, but Emily's character arc provides this movie with its solution. The new generation will always try to supplant the old guard, but some old-school mindsets have stayed at the top for a reason—they have what it takes to survive. "The Devil Wears Prada 2" ultimately leans into sentimentality. It defends the necessity of tradition while lamenting that the tide of the new era cannot be held back for long. The film is self-aware, understanding that the solution presented in its finale is merely a stopgap measure, buying the industry a little more time to avoid facing reality.
(Image: 20th Century Studios)
This stubborn romanticism mirrors Miranda's ruthless move in the first film, where she sacrificed Nigel to get rid of Jacqueline. Both actions were to protect her throne, but while the first was cold and calculated, the second is a poignant, thorny act of defiance against a merciless world. When a tearful Miranda declares, "But I love my job," you can't help but be moved by her sheer force of will. As long as she has breath in her body, she will fight to the very end—that is the spirit of Miranda Priestly. Both films feature a heartfelt conversation between Miranda and Andrea in the back of a car. Twenty years ago, Andrea walked away in anger. Twenty years later, she chooses to stay and continue the fight alongside Miranda. It's a beautiful full-circle moment.
Miranda's transformation isn't just in the ending. In fact, Meryl Streep's performance is drastically different from two decades ago, as if she has completely deconstructed and reshaped the character. Her portrayal is much "looser," less tightly controlled and calculated in how much emotion she chooses to reveal. This Miranda is more expressive, more outwardly emotional. This change is partly a response to the script's setup: Miranda is now facing cancel culture and a PR crisis, essentially on probation. Her edge has been significantly dulled, and her position is precarious. So, instead of haughty coldness, we more often see her frustration, her forced restraint, and her impatience with being muzzled.
(Image: 20th Century Studios)
But part of Miranda's evolution also feels like a kindness from the writers, who finally give her a new husband who knows how to provide emotional support and comfort. Early in the film, you might question how a chill musician, played by Kenneth Branagh, could possibly be with Miranda—they seem to be from different worlds. But you slowly realize he is exactly the partner she needs, someone to help her relax and release her stress. In fact, the partners the writers have given Emily and Andrea share similar qualities, a subtle detail that speaks volumes.
Miranda's reaction to learning Andrea is privately considering writing her biography is another fascinating aspect of her character development. It’s clear this subplot is a meta-commentary on "The Devil Wears Prada" author Lauren Weisberger's own experience writing a book skewering her former boss, Anna Wintour. When the first film was in production, no one in the fashion world dared to lend costumes, and rumors swirled that Wintour disliked the movie. Director David Frankel even joked that Wintour wouldn't say hello to him. But twenty years later, Wintour has joined the cast for promotional events and magazine cover shoots. This subplot may hint at why. The on-screen reconciliation between Miranda and Andrea feels like a proxy for the real people. Andrea ultimately resists publishing, but a tearful yet smiling Miranda gives her full support. The Miranda of twenty years ago might have been furious, but today's Miranda has come to terms with it. She'd rather let the world know what sacrifices and ruthless decisions are required to reach her position.
(Image: 20th Century Studios)
"The Devil Wears Prada 2" is very different from the original, yet not so different at all. It's a special kind of sequel—one that bravely breaks new ground while meticulously packing in fan service, achieving a perfect balance between the two. Certain narrative structures echo the first film, but never to the point of feeling like a lazy copy. The filmmakers understand the powerful nostalgia this sequel can evoke, so they skillfully weave in moments that will make fans smile or cry: both films open with Andrea brushing her teeth in the morning; Andrea gets chided for ladling soup again; Miranda, who once violently tossed her coats and bags onto her assistant's desk, now struggles to hang them in the closet herself after complaints. Years ago, Miranda sacrificed Nigel's career to save her own; this time, her conscience finally catches up, and she apologizes. The sequel is filled with designs that echo the original, but the ratio is just right, never letting sentimentality hijack the narrative.
The best praise I can give this sequel is that it is tight. Every aspect is tight. Tight, tight, tight! It's lean and solid, with every component locked perfectly in place, leaving no room for slack. It is because of high-caliber sequels like this that we cannot be lenient with lazy, nostalgia-bait products like "Freaky Friday 2," "Hocus Pocus 2," or "Disenchanted"—films that often fail even at selling nostalgia. To tolerate them is to insult the effort put into superior sequels like "The Devil Wears Prada 2" and "Top Gun: Maverick."
PS: I genuinely believe Emily deserves a spinoff. I would love to watch her journey building her career over the years (or a sequel following her). It feels like there are so many hilarious stories to tell.