Miranda Priestly loves her job. She’s good at it too. In one of the callbacks in The Devil Wears Prada 2, Miranda (Meryl Streep) reclines in the backseat of her sedan, just like she did in the 2006 hit original. This time, she tells Andy (Anne Hathaway) how much she loves to work.
The remark permits a brief crack in Miranda’s carefully composed exterior. It’s a bit like the vulnerability that peeks through in the first film where she appears without makeup, or when she smiles at the end for the first and only time in the film before making that grin disappear with her girlboss attitude. And it’s very, very far from the mantra offered by Emily (Emily Blunt) that provided one of The Devil Wears Prada’s most meme-able lines: “I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.”
What hits home in this moment of The Devil Wears Prada 2 is how comfortably Meryl Streep wears Miranda like a custom couture. Streep, like Priestly, loves her job. She knows that she’s good at it. However, she succeeds despite the odds thrown at her in a field that isn’t kind to aging figures, especially women. Her success exudes the confidence of a career of hard work. It’s her best accessory and it goes with any outfit.
Streep’s resplendent performance is one of several reasons, thank God (or thank Meryl, if we can finally be honest) that The Devil Wears Prada 2 delivers a successful sequel to a film that seemed like a one-off wonder 20 years ago. There’s a gaggle of blink-and-you’ll miss it cameos, plus a mic drop track by Lady Gaga and Doechii to keep the film well in the awards conversation alongside Streep’s performance. (Some things are new, like Patrick Brammell as an Australian love interest to replace Adrien Grenier, admittedly one area that doesn’t quite meet the precedent.) But it’s the Miranda/Meryl show in all its glory.
The film, confidently directed with David Frankel back at the helm, provides a worthy follow-up to the unlikely hit that set a very high bar for anything that followed in its trend-setting heels. There are callbacks a-plenty, right down to glow-up costumes that meet the impossibly high bar for fashionable characterizing set by Patricia Field with Moly Rogers showing audiences the character growth through their styles. It’s a smart and chic comedy that tackles the woes of the publishing industry while showing audiences what makes a veteran editor like Miranda not only an icon, but a point of necessary consistency in a changing field.
The Devil Wears Prada 2 follows many similar beats of the original, as sequels often do. Andy finds herself back at Runway after she gets sacked from her job at a progressive newspaper. However, that layoff provides fortuitous timing because the publishers at Elias Clarke, Runway’s umbrella, need to call in the cavalry. Miranda finds herself navigating the biggest oopsie of her career after a feature story in Runway inadvertently extolled the virtues of a line that turned out to be a fast-fashion sweatshop ring.
As Andy puts away her flats and returns to Runway, she decides to put her past differences with Miranda aside. She wants to prove herself again after Miranda doubted her those 20 years ago. Miranda, shady bitch that she is, pretends to forget Andy. But anyone in that position with a rolodex like hers would never blank on a face or name.
The film somewhat struggles to find its footing in the first act as key players from The Devil Wears Prada return. Nigel (Stanley Tucci, even better here with more to do) still keeps Runway at the cutting edge of fashion thanks to an eye for style—both on the clothing rack and in the art department. Meanwhile, Emily has moved on from Runway and now leads brand at Dior. Miranda’s fast fashion gaffe has her eating crow with advertisers and Emily makes a fair gamble to seize the moment and show her former employer who’s the boss.
Some things haven’t changed in 20 years, but journalism certainly has. Andy watches in horror as Miranda tacitly accepts Emily’s bid for ad pages and editorial spreads. The difference between Andy and Miranda here is that one just lost her job and the other’s held hers for decades. The Devil Wears Prada 2 is sure to play differently for folks who write for a magazine versus those who run one. This film has a sharp eye for the dynamics at play in the publishing field as legacy print titles struggle to maintain their relevance in the age of social scrolls and dumb-as-fuck influencers with their viral videos. And for everyone who’s just there for the fashion, it won’t disappoint.
Andy insists on showing her worth to Miranda and Runway even though her heady features don’t net many clicks. Miranda, meanwhile, seems content to push some key designers and clickbait to keep the book going. Brands like Dior pay the bills so that she and Nigel can elevate trendsetters and remain fashion’s reigning tastemakers.
It’s here where The Devil Wears Prada finds a new tango for Andy and Miranda. After the first film dished on the boss’s intolerable cruelty by adapting Lauren Weisberger’s thinly veiled barb at Anna Wintour, the sequel, again written by Aline Brosh McKenna, makes a stab for journalism’s relevancy in 2026. There’s a market for smart in-depth reporting that’s crafted by a human and not churned out by A.I. One just needs the right place for it and the right eye to develop it.
Andy therefore finds her new Harry Potter book in elusive billionaire divorcée Sasha Barnes (Lucy Liu), whom she hears is Miranda’s most coveted interview. Cue a glossy spread and the hits it deserves, and Runway’s new features editor finally lands a single nod in lieu of pursed lips.
The Devil Wears Prada 2 comfortably wears its legacy with a coat of light-hearted escapism. The alliance between Andy and Miranda can’t last for long, especially when a plum book deal entices Andy to dish about Miranda and get a comfy nest egg that journalism won’t provide. However, she’s convinced Miranda’s had a change of heart, as noted by a moment of high comedy in which the fashionista struggles to place her coat on a hanger rather than fling it onto her minion’s desk. Streep certainly has a knack for physical comedy, especially with Priestly’s cool as ice composure.
A few twists send the gang to Milan—Paris was so 2006—and it’s in this act that the sequel hits its stride like Winnie Harlow on the runway. (Look for her carefully!) The Devil Wears Prada steps its game up by finding renewed tension between Miranda and Andy, with Emily circling like a regular Eve Harrington. It’s also a glow-up, since Streep takes centre stage once the film jets to Milan, whereas the first half of the film doesn’t quite seem sure what to do with Miranda as Andy plays All the President’s Men at Runway.
This act gives Miranda a chance to redeem herself by showing why some things never go out of fashion. Streep dexterously opens up the character without betraying the focus and precision that keep Miranda at the top of her game. There’s also new alignment to Miranda that didn’t quite exist circa 2006.
If the character was a play on Anna Wintour—in the book, at least, as Streep’s been open about separating her take on the editor—then the Miranda of the sequel carries Meryl’s signature brand. Streep’s long been the best actress in the business, but The Devil Wears Prada made her serious bank for the first time since, well, Out of Africa. It’s no accident that by 2009, she was the only 60-year-old actress headlining not one but two $100-million dollar hits in the same year. If she elevated the first film as a movie star, she owns this Devil like a singular icon.
There’s lived in respect for Priestly that Streep reflects here. She carries Miranda’s poise and style knowing full well they’re accoutrements to a sharp eye, but also an artist whose learned and evolved as she’s aged. That’s what good editors do, and that’s why The Devil Wears Prada 2 plays equal parts fantasy and reality. It might seem like wish fulfilment for print magazines to spend so lavishly when the era of the celebrity editor is long over. But just as a legacy editor can be an outlet’s greatest liability, it can also be its greatest asset. It’s so fun to watch Streep slay, and she knows it.
A rave review for Meryl Streep? Groundbreaking.
