If Runway isn’t just a magazine, but a shining beacon of hope for a young boy growing up in Rhode Island with six brothers, then The Devil Wears Prada isn’t just a movie, but a cultural reference point in cinema and fashion, and a comfort movie for the girls and the gays.
Written by Mariane Tremblay
Some people say nostalgia is overrated, and I must admit I've agreed more than once. But perhaps it’s because it was never about something that means so much to me, or perhaps it's because I was too young to fully grasp the feeling. But after watching The Devil Wears Prada 2, I have to say that nostalgia isn’t such a bad thing after all, and most definitely not overrated. Even though nostalgia can be bittersweet sometimes, it can also bring so much joy and comfort—is there anything better than watching a movie and being instantly swept away by this sudden wave of strong and inexplicable feelings? So much so that just a few minutes in, your heart feels full and your eyes start tearing up. Well, that’s exactly how The Devil Wears Prada 2 made me feel—suddenly I was 6 again, watching the first movie at my grandparents'.
I grew up watching The Devil Wears Prada (2006)—it was one of my favourite movies. Fashion fascinated me. Meryl Streep intrigued me. And I was one of the millions of girls who would kill for the job. Although I have to admit the working conditions were probably a nightmare, to me, there was something so dreamy about Andy (Anne Hathaway) and Emily’s (Emily Blunt) job. Growing up in a small forest town, I felt my work prospects were limited, and I knew I aspired to more than it had to offer. To bigger than what it had to offer. The thought of moving to a big city, working in an industry I loved more than anything, and slowly climbing the ladder? That felt both impossible, yet completely possible and magical at the same time. And for the past two decades, I’ve been watching this movie religiously—because if Runway is like a religion to them, The Devil Wears Prada is to me—learning all the lines, reciting them, and just keeping on dreaming.
But the thing is, over the past few years, sequels have faced heavy criticism, and let’s be honest, they’re rarely as good as their predecessors, especially when they’re released more than two decades later. Even though the original cast often returns (or at least in part), the rest of the team usually is different, leading to a tonal shift that audiences are rarely pleased with. And even if I’m always thrilled to see some of my favourite characters back on screen, I’m also often hesitant—scared they’ll ruin them completely. But The Devil Wears Prada 2 is somewhat different. Not only the core four of the first movie came back: Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway, Emily Blunt and Stanley Tucci (as well as some other actors such as Tracie Thoms and Tibor Feldman), but most of the team behind the camera came back as well: David Frankel (director), Aline Brosh McKenna (writer and executive producer), Wendy Finerman (producer), Karen Rosenfelt (executive producer), Florian Ballhaus (cinematographer) and Theodore Shapiro (composer), only to name a few.
For once, I was not worried, not even for one second, and I am more than happy to say that I was right to trust my intuition. The Devil Wears Prada 2 is one of the best legacy sequels I’ve seen recently, and it definitely was worth waiting twenty years for it. But I understand that some people might’ve been more reticent to the idea of a sequel to this movie, especially given the status it gained over the years among different communities. If Runway isn’t just a magazine, but a shining beacon of hope for a young boy growing up in Rhode Island with six brothers, then The Devil Wears Prada isn’t just a movie, but a cultural reference point in cinema and fashion, a comfort movie for the girls and the gays, and a generational touchstone about work, ambition and identity. It became so important to so many over the past few years, but if you loved the first one as much as I do, I’m pretty sure you’ll love this sequel just as much.
Twenty years after her dramatic departure from Runway during a trip to Paris Fashion Week, Andy (Hathaway) has become an award-winning journalist who has spent years travelling the world in search of breaking news stories and is now back in New York. After being fired by her publication via text message during an awards ceremony, she delivers a speech about the importance of journalism and its relevance today, which goes viral on social media and catches the attention of Irv (Tibor Feldman) and Jay Ravitz (B.J. Novak), who are trying to manage a fast-fashion scandal involving Runway. Rehired to head the magazine’s features department in an effort to restore its image, Andy must find a way to work alongside Miranda (Streep), who was unaware of her return.
"May my suicide be brief and painless [...] what?
I'm not talking about killing other people... yet."
Emily (Blunt) is now working at Dior, Nigel is still the art director despite what happened with Miranda in Paris, and Miranda, well, she’s still Miranda — but a Miranda trying to navigate an entirely new era… or rather, struggling to navigate it, whether it’s the things you can or can’t say anymore or the changing perception of beauty and artistry.
Right when the movie starts, nostalgia kicks in immediately. There are so many nods to the first movie: the Runway Gala, blue belts, Spring Floral… and those are only a few examples. The audience will be transported right back to where they were when they watched the first one, as no time has passed at all. Backed by a score composed by Shapiro and designed to echo the original, the first notes audiences hear will likely bring tears to their eyes—or at least they did for me. For 119 minutes, I was completely overwhelmed, but in the best possible way. The feeling didn’t come in waves; it stayed. It wrapped around me and refused to let go. And somewhere within that feeling, I realised that this is what nostalgia actually is.
Nostalgia is one thing, but this sequel carries a much deeper meaning that more than justifies waiting two decades. What makes this movie so compelling—and one of the best legacy sequels in recent years—is that it has something genuine to say, and doesn't simply rely on nostalgia alone (even though studios particularly love that formula, because it allows them to make easy profits).
The state of journalism, media, AI, and the arts lies at the heart of this movie. It is so refreshing to see a major studio like 20th Century Studios allowing space for this kind of discourse, because it feels incredibly important to address, especially right now, at a time when funding is almost impossible to secure and when freedom of speech and freedom of the press are increasingly under threat.
As someone working in television production—and also trying to develop an online media platform while writing on the side—I completely understand their feeling. Due to the financial difficulties facing our industry, many of my colleagues lost their jobs, myself included, and it's really hard to see what you love most, what matters most, slowly slip away. Watching media professionals, producers, journalists, and everyone involved struggle to keep the industry afloat is one of the most devastating things, because it leaves you powerless, and that sense of powerlessness is simply heartbreaking.
But as Andy says so well in the movie, journalism still fucking matters and the media in general still fucking matter, because they inform, hold the powerful accountable, and shape collective understanding. Without news reporting, most of our knowledge about politics, economics, health, culture, or conflict would be essentially filtered through power structures, rumours, or algorithms. Journalism transforms an event into a verifiable reality. Governments, corporations, institutions: none are inherently transparent—journalism exists to ask the tough questions, expose abuses, and document the decisions that affect people's lives. The media doesn't just report reality; they help define what matters, what is covered, how it is presented, and what is ignored—all influence public attention, debate, and collective memory. And today, all of this is threatened by budget cuts, AI-generated content that blurs the line between reality and fiction, and restrictions imposed on the freedom of expression of certain people and media outlets.
Throughout the movie, it is clear that the state of modern journalism, the media, and how it's been shifting over the past few years, is concerning, but there's a scene between Miranda and Benji (Justin Theroux) that is particularly heartbreaking (and even enraging). When they discuss the future of Runway (and in reality, this could apply to any publication), he makes comments, typical of a tech mogul solely concerned with profits, which, for anyone with even a passing interest in art, feels deeply unsettling. And the saddest part is that this is, in many ways, how some people in positions of power think in real life—which is frightening for the future of the media and artistry.
But beyond its discourse on media and journalism, The Devil Wears Prada 2 is also an incredible movie about female empowerment. It centres a range of strong women who all achieve extraordinary things in their own respective lives, and as a team, and their journeys remain deeply inspiring for millions of girls [who would kill for their jobs]. Even back when the first film came out, both Miranda (despite some questionable behaviours) and Andy were already the kind of women I felt I could—and should—look up to. And that feeling is only stronger here, seeing all the things they've accomplished in the past twenty years, and with the introduction of Sasha (Lucy Liu), whose brief but powerful presence in this sequel will make you want to shout, "Wow, the power of women."
The only negative point I have to say about this movie is about Andy's new boyfriend, Peter (Patrick Brammall). Nothing against the character himself, even though I do think he could have been more interesting—I felt completely indifferent towards him, which is never really a good sign—but I sincerely believe this subplot was unnecessary. It almost feels as if women absolutely need a love interest in every single movie, as if romance is needed to complete their story. But the truth is, it isn't. There's something far more compelling about watching a strong, independent woman navigating life on her own terms, especially in a movie that already has so much to say about ambition, work and identity. Andy didn’t need a romantic subplot to feel complete as a character, because she already is, and women should definitely not be defined by romantic relationships.
Ultimately, The Devil Wears Prada 2 is a legacy sequel that will captivate audiences with its nostalgia while prompting them to reflect on some of the most important conversations of our time. Past and present intertwine seamlessly, introducing new characters who join the four core characters from the first film. It’s a new era, with new expressions and new ways of approaching things, and the team behind the film has done a remarkable job of giving it a dimension that feels both unique and timeless. The performances are incredible, and the original cast slips back into their roles as if no time had passed, while still allowing their characters to evolve and grow in ways that make us love them even more.
The Devil Wears Prada 2 will make you laugh, it will make you cry, and it's now playing in theatres, and if you haven’t seen it yet, go. That’s all!
Photos courtesy of 20th Century Studios
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