The Devil Wears Prada 2

A nostalgic return that fits less snugly than twenty years ago

Nostalgia is the main selling point in Hollywood nowadays, whether because executives are yearning for a golden age of cinema gone by, or because it appeals to a "safe bet" mentality of packaging content for viewers with guaranteed recognition. This seems to be driving every project greenlit by the major studios, which have moved on from chasing IP to simply digging up any minor hit of the past. Perhaps this is why the newest Avengers film will essentially play on the very recent golden years of Marvel, or why television networks are reuniting old casts with little actual story to tell (Malcolm in the Middle: Life's Still Unfair (2026); And Just Like That (2021–2025)). In film, the examples pile up: Michael (2026) is a recent case showcasing how putting old musical hits on screen is enough to sell tickets. The latest to receive this treatment is The Devil Wears Prada 2 (2026).

The Devil Wears Prada 2 doesn't follow the sequel novel written to the best-selling semi-memoir. Instead, it tells its own story to reunite the characters of the first film, twenty years on. Andy (Anne Hathaway) is now a renowned investigative journalist working for a small paper in New York; Emily (Emily Blunt) is an executive at Dior; and Miranda (Meryl Streep) and Nigel (Stanley Tucci) continue in their same roles at fashion magazine Runway. When an embarrassing puff piece in the magazine turns out to be concealing sweatshops in the fashion world, Andy is brought in by Runway's parent company to run the features section of the magazine. The old assistant thus returns to face a toxic Miranda, who has had Andy reluctantly installed as a colleague.

The first The Devil Wears Prada (2006) offered a playful window into the high-fashion world that somewhat smoothed the edges of the memoir it was based on, taking less of an axe to the Anna Wintour stand-in Miranda and showing her as a mean but rather complicated boss. By stepping outside the original memoir, however, The Devil Wears Prada 2 is both liberated and unmoored from the confines of that source material. As such, this sequel feels less like an immersive look into the high-pressure and unforgiving world of fashion and more like an airy vehicle for good intentions and fan fiction.

The Devil Wears Prada 2, while still steeped in the fashion world (it is replete with cameos ranging from Marc Jacobs to Donatella Versace), seems most intent on the journalistic side of the "fashion magazine" premise. Andy is portrayed as an intrepid reporter writing necessary if under-read pieces. The first two acts are essentially a study in the struggle for written journalism to remain relevant to both its corporate bosses and its readers, as the closure of fellow outlets echoes ever closer and panic and survivalist instincts begin to overwhelm Andy. This would have made for a rather intriguing and satisfying sequel, even if it never digs deep into the nuances of modern journalism. Yet in the third act, the film suddenly remembers that it also has to be a "fashion" film: it relocates to Milan and launches into a melodramatic series of twists and turns that feel more like Tumblr fan fiction from 2008 than the organic behavior of these characters. Many of the decisions and conversations in this third act never feel real, Miranda's edges are softened, and Andy becomes a caricature. The result is a rather vapid finale, with a confusing solution proposed to save both fashion and journalism: find yourself a billionaire patron.

While looking down at the cheap nostalgia-baiting that The Devil Wears Prada 2 offers fans of the first film, it's hard to resist the incredibly talented cast assembled once again. We simply don't get enough of Tucci on film, and I sincerely hope he offers his services more to the big screen. Blunt, a far bigger star in the twenty years since the first film, has a supporting role that is rather one-note, yet she breathes an air of complexity into it. Hathaway is at her most bubbly, in the kind of energetic performance I had sorely missed after she took increasingly dark and dour roles following her Oscar win for Les Misérables (2012). I hope we get a more balanced set of Hathaway roles going forward, as her comedic skills remain impeccable. Yet the true heart and soul of a Prada film is Streep, who slips back into Miranda's silver bob with an ease that makes you genuinely believe the character has returned. Every arch of an eyebrow or subtle sigh of judgment steals the spotlight in her every scene. Hers is a presence that permeates the entire film, so that even in the more uncharacteristic moments piled on toward the end, you never see Streep come through but rather Miranda herself grappling with them.

The costumes remain original and vibrant, though I was not as dazzled as by the first film's selections, since original costume designer Patricia Field chose not to return. While the nostalgia and the intriguing journalism angle carry you through the harmless first two acts, the third act lost me with its incongruity with the rest of the story and its overreliance on melodramatic tropes and implausible character decisions. In the end, this sequel is a glittery watch as it comes down the catwalk, but you are soon to forget it once it has struck its pose and turned away.

6.6/10