The Devil Wears Prada

(And Wields a Designer Pitchfork)

Okay. This movie has everything.

Anne Hathaway reminding us very loudly that she’s an actress playing a part (to be fair, she is good at that).

Meryl Streep being imperious. And isn’t that the best Meryl Streep. Unlike my friend Bob, who will not watch a Meryl Streep movie (his reasoning has never made sense to me, so I don’t ask anymore), I think she is easily one of the top 10 film actresses of all time. Just don’t ask me to defend that. I doubt that I’ll make sense.

You got Stanley Tucci, doing wonderful Stanley Tucci things and darn near stealing the whole show. I swear, the man says more in one glance than most actors says in three monologues stitched together.

Okay, the whole thing starts when our ingenue, Andy Sachs (Hathaway, because, of course she’s an ingenue and an oh-so-one at that) plops down in NYC straight outta Northwestern, where she was editor-in-chief of the student newspaper (again, Hathaway. Need I say more. I would say to our dear Anne: Branch out a little, maybe a crack addict with a masochistic streak next time. Or a Hollywood executive — but that’s kind of the same thing. But no, it’s the sequel to this one — TDWP 2 — out May 1, 2026. Alright Twentieth Century Studios Marketing, where’s my money?)