The Devil Wears Prada
110 minutes,
USA (2006), PG
Average user rating 
(4.4 / 266 votes)
(4.4 / 266 votes)
A drab college girl lands a job at a high fashion magazine, assisting its fearsome editor. Superior chick-lit adaptation starring Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci
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The Devil Wears Prada Review
A drab college girl lands a job at a high fashion magazine, assisting its fearsome editor. Superior chick-lit adaptation starring Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci
The Devil Wears Prada could be subtitled 'Or How I Learnt To Love Elite Consumerism And Realised My College Idealism Was Naïve'.
Certainly, anyone buying a ticket expecting a satire on the fashion industry and its doyens will be disappointed. Don't think Tony Curtis and Burt Lancaster as a press agent and columnist, brothers in amorality, in 1957's Sweet Smell Of Success. Instead, think Michael J Fox's yomping up the corporate ladder in 1980s yuppie affirmation film The Secret Of My Success
Despite rumours that Meryl Streep's ice queen editor Miranda Priestly would offer media insiders the delicious prospect of a satire of 'Vogue' legend Anna 'Nuclear' Wintour, you come away from Devil Wears Prada with the belief that the people who work in the fashion industry are doing important work at considerable self-sacrifice, a belief that slowly evaporates as you realise that - wait a minute - this is a film about the fashion industry and journalism with not a cigarette in sight! Maybe it's not that accurate a portrayal after all.
But enough of what The Devil Wears Prada is not. There are some must-have luxuries here, first of which is Meryl Streep's fascinating performance as the fearsome Miranda Priestly. Unlike Anna Wintour, Priestly's eyes are rarely concealed by sunglasses, Streep instead choosing a variety of clear frames to wield the icicles of her gaze. Her tone is a weary sing-song, exhausted by the incompetence of the human race.
Certainly, anyone buying a ticket expecting a satire on the fashion industry and its doyens will be disappointed. Don't think Tony Curtis and Burt Lancaster as a press agent and columnist, brothers in amorality, in 1957's Sweet Smell Of Success. Instead, think Michael J Fox's yomping up the corporate ladder in 1980s yuppie affirmation film The Secret Of My Success
Despite rumours that Meryl Streep's ice queen editor Miranda Priestly would offer media insiders the delicious prospect of a satire of 'Vogue' legend Anna 'Nuclear' Wintour, you come away from Devil Wears Prada with the belief that the people who work in the fashion industry are doing important work at considerable self-sacrifice, a belief that slowly evaporates as you realise that - wait a minute - this is a film about the fashion industry and journalism with not a cigarette in sight! Maybe it's not that accurate a portrayal after all.
But enough of what The Devil Wears Prada is not. There are some must-have luxuries here, first of which is Meryl Streep's fascinating performance as the fearsome Miranda Priestly. Unlike Anna Wintour, Priestly's eyes are rarely concealed by sunglasses, Streep instead choosing a variety of clear frames to wield the icicles of her gaze. Her tone is a weary sing-song, exhausted by the incompetence of the human race.
"The accessories are fantastic but we're not sure about that outfit"
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