| Bilgi :Think your boss is bad? Try having a silver-maned dragon lady waltz in every morning, plunk her fur and Fendi bag du jour down on your desk, and bark out orders such as "I'd like my breakfast now" or "bring me the table I saw at that store" or "my daughters need surf boards or boogie boards or whatever for our vacation tomorrow." Don't dream of
asking for clarification or expecting to be called by the correct name. That's the reality Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) faces every day as junior assistant to Miranda Preistly (Meryl
Streep), editor of the fashion bible Runway Magazine.
It's a job a million girls would die for, or so Andy is told
at every turn. Though mostly Andy just wants to kill her
fashionista boss for sending her on countless mindless
errands, and then calling her every 20 seconds to amend, add
to, or confuse the commands. But Andy, the baggie-clothed
journalist who doesn't know Michael Kors from Michael Jackson,
puts up with Miranda's sadistic behavior because she's been
promised that if she can stick it out for a year, she can
write her ticket to any job in the mag market.
Meryl Streep as Miranda, the
dragon lady of a boss
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Andy seems to have a forcefield of sunshine
warding off the snarky stares and insults of senior assistant
Emily (Emily Blunt) and the rest of the Clackers (so named for
the sound their stilettos make on the hard floor). She fumbles
her way through the strange new world of fashion intent on
being unaffected by the materialism and meal-avoidance. But
over time, Andy allows fashion editor Nigel (delightfully
played by Stanley Tucci) to give her an extreme makeover.
Though these changes are lovely on Hathaways' long, lean
frame, some of the other changes that sneak in during Andy's
tour of duty aren't so pretty—like the fact that she starts to
go AWOL on her dad, best friend Lilly (Tracie Thoms), and
grungy boyfriend Nate (Adrian Grenier).
Anne Hathaway plays Andy Sachs,
who puts up with Miranda's daily antics
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Fans of Lauren Weisberger's 2003 New York
Times best-selling novel of the same name will
recognize the story up to this point, with a few minor tweaks.
Miranda's French accent has slipped over to Emily and turned
British (I'd so looked forward to Streep calling Andy
"Ahn-dre-ah" whenever she got her name right). And any speck
of compassion we read about in Emily has been stripped away
and some of it has been surprisingly given to Miranda. Lilly
isn't a key player here, or an alcoholic. And Nigel, as you
can tell by the casting of Stanley Tucci, isn't a big gay
black man. The most noticeable changes from the book occur in
second-half plot twists, when we see Miranda be (gasp!)
vulnerable and makeup-less, Andy actually take pride in her
job, and the world of fashion bestowed with some honor and
worth.
They've given Miranda more humanity here than
in the book version, which I'm somewhat torn about. A more
balanced Miranda is more realistic, but also weakens the
premise of the story. After 400 pages of completely heartless
Miranda, the movie version feels more like The Mean Boss-Lady
Wears Prada than The Devil Wears Prada. But then it's
hard to picture Meryl Streep as a she-devil. Even in her
toughest roles, we heart Meryl. It's a delight to see her here
in a rare comedic turn, seeming to have fun with her parade of
Prada and cold-hearted commentary. When she delivers her
dismissing "That's all" to her lackeys, you can almost see ice
crystals forming in the air around her mouth. She elevates the
film with her commanding yet understated presence.
Stanley Tucci as fashion editor
Nigel, who gives Andy a fashion makeover
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Though Miranda is wonderfully cast, some of
the other characters don't fare as well. Though Hathaway is
endearing and lovely, she's too Pollyanna for the catty world
of the catwalk. And though she looks pretty in the latter half
of the film, she also looks a tad gangly in some of her
dashing-through-the-streets-of-New York or Paris scenes. I
don't quite buy her as one of the semi-high-profile faces for
fashion's it magazine. And Simon Barker is all wrong as
Christian Thompson, the smooth-talking writer who woos Andy.
With his poorly written lines and stiff delivery, he emits
zero chemistry with our girl, making us wonder why she'd risk
things with her grungy-but-lovable beau for this guy.
In the end, The Devil Wears Prada is a
fun voyeuristic peek into the world of high fashion—which was
the main appeal of the breezy bestseller upon which it's
based. I'm not quite sure what Andy learns by the end of the
flick—perhaps something about being true to your heart or how
to stride about in a pair of Jimmy Choos. But, as with a
glossy mag like Runway, we don't really watch this kind
of flick for the meaty message. If you're looking for a
light-hearted romp down the runway, The Devil Wears
Prada is a perfect fit. Review by Camerin Courtney |
