Review: The Devil Wears Prada 2
The Devil Wears Prada sequel isn’t quite what I had in mind. It didn’t exceed expectations, but thankfully, it doesn’t crash and burn either. And honestly, that already feels like a win.
Set 20 years after Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) walked out of Runway, we find her living the life she once fought for - an investigative journalist with credibility. Or at least, that’s the idea. Life, of course, has other plans, and she ends up right back where she started: under the perfectly manicured thumb of Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep), with Nigel (Stanley Tucci) offering a welcome that’s warm… but not exactly enthusiastic.
Andy’s return isn’t treated like a triumphant homecoming, and rightly so. Runway isn’t the Runway we remember. In 2006, fashion magazines were the gatekeepers of taste: glossy, aspirational, and powerful enough to make a million girls “kill for the job.” In 2026, they’re something else entirely. Between influencers, AI, and the slow erosion of traditional media, the magazine now feels like it’s caught in survival mode, churning out content that feeds algorithms rather than shaping culture. It’s a bleak but honest reflection of where media stands today, and the film leans into that with surprising confidence.
We also get the obligatory check-in on Andy’s personal life. She’s still close to Lily (Tracie Thorns), and mercifully, she’s ditched the unsupportive manchild boyfriend Nick? Nate? Whatever. Progress I guess.
There’s a new romantic interest though. An Australian contractor named Peter (Patrick Brammall) but he’s more filler than function. In the original, Andy’s relationships were integral to showing how Runway changed her, sparking real conversations about ambition and the cost of success. Here, they mostly just confirm what we already know: she’s grown up. Groundbreaking.
Nostalgia is handled with a surprisingly light touch. Instead of hitting us over the head with callbacks, the film opts for subtle nods such as wardrobe parallels, background details, familiar cuts, and musical cues. It plays like a quiet scavenger hunt for fans of the original rather than a desperate attempt to relive past glory. And for newcomers, the film throws in enough celebrity cameos to keep things interesting without feeling gimmicky.
That said, it’s not without its issues. The pacing drags in places, and perhaps the biggest disappointment: Miranda just isn’t as cutting as she used to be. Yes, the biting humour of 2006 might not translate well today (and some of it probably shouldn’t), but in sanding down her sharpest edges, the film also loses some of what made her so compelling. The icy stares are still there, but the sting? Not quite.
All things considered, if you loved The Devil Wears Prada, you’ll like this sequel. If you’re coming in fresh, there’s nothing here to actively dislike, but not much that will stay with you long after the credits roll either.