If you go into The Devil Wears Prada 2 looking for fierce fashion porn, bitchy put-downs and a fresh dose of Meryl Streep’s iconic performance as imperious Anna Wintour clone Miranda Priestly, you are unlikely to be disappointed. Arriving 20 years after the original, David Frankel’s sequel hits familiar beats that fans will eat up and deftly reconfigures the core trio of women into new adversarial positions, even if it ultimately lapses into cozy sentimentality. The movie is best when it sticks to fluffy, fun nostalgia rather than shooting for substance.
Detractors immune to the cult-like adoration for the high-sheen original had issues with its shallowness, toothless fashion industry satire and anemic storyline. It’s hard to skewer aspirational luxury when you’re drooling over it. The late-series Sex and the City vibe (the canonical HBO show was a stepping-stone for Frankel when he was cutting his teeth as a director) that made the material
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