The Devil Wears Prada 2 (2026)

When I saw the trailer for this a while back, my first action wasn't the usual eye roll at the possibility of yet another sequel made purely for fiscal gain. Which is strange, because nothing in The Devil Wears Prada 2 suggests that it was made for any other reason. Part of my interest was the fact that David Frankel's 2006 original was a rather terrific piece of work, adapted from Lauren Weisberger's 2003 novel of the same name. So the question is, does Frankel's follow up justify its existence or indeed do anything remotely interesting with its characters? Well no, but as the film plays out, you realise this question isn't anywhere near as relevant as you might initially have thought. Anne Hathaway returns as Andrea “Andy” Sachs, the once would-be serious writer who landed a job at New York fashion magazine Runway, edited by Streep’s Miranda Priestly, before being offered a journalism job elsewhere (with many lessons seemingly learned) at the film’s conclusion. Twenty years on, as we re-join her, she’s landing an award for her articles at a broadsheet job while simultaneously being fired along with the rest of her colleagues. She needs a job, but where could she possibly find one? As luck (or necessary plot requirements) would have it, Runway need a features editor to spruce up some positive press, the company having embarrassed itself by accidentally becoming associated with the sweatshop economy. This sort of plot contrivance is rife throughout The Devil Wears Prada 2, a film that barely even attempts to convince its audience that it's a worthy addition to its far superior predecessor. But that's hardly the point here. We've seen numerous other much loved films produce grossly inferior follow ups that hang solely on trusting fans of the first one to come flocking back, and sit through some truly ghastly cinema. The Devil Wears Prada 2 differs from these because it actually knows- and to a certain extent cares- what its fans want. After Andy is reacquainted with her former boss (a scene in which Miranda seemingly has no recollection of her whatsoever), Stanley Tucci’s Nigel explains the current way of the world to her. Physical media is obsolete; the magazine doesn’t exist anymore, and online clickbait for the fickle teen brain is driving statistics and production. In the first twenty minutes of the film, we are literally battered round the head with the fact that the world has moved on.

You simply can’t hang a feature film on such a notion, but Frenkel's film tries its hardest to do just that, trusting that audiences will blithely ignore plot holes or devices that will have anyone who's paying attention to the critical side of things scratching their heads. But in the case of this, it simply doesn't matter. These are characters we’re happy to welcome back with open arms; Miranda’s despair at having to check that what’s coming out of her mouth is politically correct in a desperate-to-be-offended society is especially amusing, and a moment that many will sympathise with. She’s been kept in place in this respect by her new assistant, Amari, a welcome addition to the proceedings, expertly provided by Simone Ashley. And there’s a full new set of characters that includes a rather pointless yet not unwelcome role for Kenneth Branagh as Miranda’s new boyfriend, Stuart. Justin Theroux, Lucy Liu, and Lady Gaga also turn up, while Emily Blunt also returns as Miranda’s former top assistant, Emily, who is now the head of Dior. If you go to see this, you'll probably have absolutely no interest in depth; you simply want to spend some time with old friends, talk about the good old days, and discuss how much life has changed. You want a nostalgia blast, and to repeat the phrase "I can't believe it's been twenty years!" The cast swagger through the material with ease, and somehow both Streep and Tucci barely look a day older. The first film was Hathaway’s big breakout role after The Princess Diaries (2001), and try as she might here, her world-weary Andy isn’t anywhere near as effective an individual as the clueless and somewhat endearing assistant we were introduced to twenty years ago. The way in which Miranda swatted her away was all part of the charm, and while the pair might be on more even footing this time round, the relationship doesn’t quite have the trenchant bite it used to. The Devil Wears Prada 2 fails to escape the exact issues its characters face: relativity in a new age. But it simply doesn't matter. I found the whole thing hugely enjoyable, aided by an enormously likeable cast of characters who make it very easy to, if not forgive the film its numerous flaws, at the very least put them to one side. This is a film whose surface sparkles with nostalgia and invites you to spend time admiring its style while hoping you forget the lack of substance. And for a couple of hours, you do. 7.0/10