The Devil Wears Prada

The Devil Wears Prada is an ambitious film with thematic elements that, judging from reading many reviews on the picture, loomed largely over the heads of many reviewers and critics. The film is a 2006 comedy-drama based loosely on the book of the same name by Lauren Weisberger. It stars Anne Hathaway and Meryl Streep and is directed by David Frankel (Just Like You Imagined, Dear Diary).

The film essentially follows the journey of Andrea Sachs (Hathaway) as she lands a job at the prestigious “Runway” magazine, run by the demanding Miranda Priestley (Streep). The film follows Sachs as she transforms into another person to meet the demands of a job that dangles the carrot of fame, fortune and opportunity. The title, The Devil Wears Prada, is either purposely or accidentally indicative of moral choices and relativity when it comes to getting what we want. Sachs trades in friends, family and herself for a piece of what she believes she wants, only to discover she doesn’t want it that badly in the end.

It’s the classic great trade-off design, really, yet the style of the film and various directorial choices make this less than it could be. While the script appears to push for a “devil” being made out of not one singular character but rather a mentality of temptation from one’s work/life goals, the director’s shot selection (how many times can we watch Hathaway clumsily run through the streets) appears to denote a lesser purpose. This causes The Devil Wears Prada to lose some of its potential steam and degenerate into a normative comedy pushing a mild dramatic agenda. It’s greater philosophical purpose is ignored in favor of a half-assed “critique” of the fashion industry.

The Devil Wears Prada would have benefited from a great sense of character depth, rather than its attempts at comic lightness. The finish, for example, was a little too wrapped up for my liking given the subject matter. Granted, I could have watched the film as a straight on “fish out of water” story involving Andy Sachs and her attempts at fitting in in the world of high fashion and higher ego, but that would have meant that I would have had to ignore large portions of the script that push people to the “dark side” because of their internal choices. Watching The Devil Wears Prada really became an ethical conundrum based around who to believe, the director or the script.

Nonetheless, Meryl Streep was tremendously entertaining as the bitch, Miranda. She displayed a soft yet ferocious intensity in the role, angling herself purposefully with glances and glares towards creating the enemy of all enemies. Streep still showed a vulnerable side, just barely lurking under Miranda’s surface, and pushed for the notion that this fashion mag editor-in-chief was really really once like “you”. Such is the meat of The Devil Wears Prada, offering you bites of flavor while skimping on the cooking time. Director Frankel tempers grand script moments such as Streep’s spiel in the limo near the end of the film with attempts at comedy and likability, ie. the Stanley Tucci character’s limited and muted homosexuality (which was apparently much more obvious in the book).

So to me, the flaw in The Devil Wears Prada was really in the selection of how to handle the material. It remained indecisive, having a tone and a feel that really didn’t match the script. It avoided confrontation with its audience, seemingly, opting to play it safe with a mild ha-ha at the fashion industry and its absurdities instead of choosing to go for the jugular of the moral exchange of “dreams” and accomplishment in one’s personal life for love and friendship. The music was distracting, too.

Anne Hathaway is hot, though.

Trailer: