Look What T.J. Maxx Dragged In

Those of us who were, and still are, magazine fans remember fondly the glory days of the turn of the century, when magazines were still king (and queen).

When newsstands were plentiful, and there were so many titles to choose from. When being on the cover was a big deal. When articles would drive conversations. When editors had celebrity status. When budgets were loose, and the parties were big, must-attend, publicity-garnering events. When certain issues (ahem, September) would drop with the weight of a phone book, thanks largely to all the advertisements.

This was before the Internet drove everyone online. Before social media gave everyone their own publishing platform. Back then, print magazines mattered. I miss those days.

The original The Devil Wears Prada, which was released in 2006, reflected those times. Based on Lauren Weisberger’s novel, the film captured the glamour and power that fashion-magazine life offered, from the swanky offices to the parties to the stylish looks to the political machinations and upward striving of its staff and leaders. (Yes, the crushing, long hours and heavy workload, too.)

It portrayed Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep, who received an Oscar nomination for her iconic performance) as an Anna Wintour stand-in who presided over Runway, her glossy, high-fashion magazine, dictating trends and crushing the souls of her employees. When Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) was hired to be Miranda’s second assistant, even though she had no interest in “this stuff,” she was told millions of girls would kill to have her job — and despite all the pressure, and the mocking of her wardrobe (cerulean!), it was no doubt true.

Chances are good you already know all this because the film still plays constantly on multiple cable channels. If you’re anything like me, you’ve watched it multiple times and still find yourself getting sucked in when casually looking around to see what’s on.

Alas, nothing lasts forever, and 20 years later, the sequel, The Devil Wears Prada 2, reflects a very different media landscape. One where randos get paid to model the latest fashions and “influence” others, you can barely find a newsstand anywhere, and the print magazines that do still exist have robust online presences that often get more attention (and make more money) than their offline counterparts do. (“I create content for people to scroll past while they’re peeing,” says Stanley Tucci’s Nigel, still Miranda’s loyal creative director and sidekick.) One, also, where owners are driven much more by the bottom line than by driving conversation. In the first film, Miranda basically had a blank check to do as she pleased. In 2026, she’s watching web traffic like a hawk, and she’s much more beholden to the advertisers, lest one of them stop paying for space.

Which is not to say all is lost at Runway, for its leader and staff — or for its alumni. Yes, I’m talking about Miranda, Nigel, and Andy, but also Emily (Emily Blunt), who has made a career pivot to fashion retail, heading up a division of Dior. Even all these years later, they each still have an attachment to the magazine.

Of course, Andy left Runway in the rear-view mirror at the end of the first film when she realized she was putting the job ahead of her relationships and didn’t like who she’d become. But when she suddenly finds herself unemployed, and Runway finds itself in crisis and in need of a savior, Andy gets a surprising offer to return to her former employer as its senior editor of features.

And so, the gang is reunited and the fun begins.

Like the original, the sequel was written by Aline Brosh McKenna and directed by David Frankel. They’ve delivered a glossy, audience-pleasing nostalgia trip that knows why you showed up: the clothes, the banter, and the characters you’ve been quoting for nearly two decades. Indeed, there are plenty of callbacks to the original, including some of the same lines of dialogue and appearances by characters like Tracie Thoms’ Lily. Madonna’s “Vogue” even serves again as the soundtrack for a montage of our leads in different outfits.

But beneath the couture sheen, and beyond the nostalgia play, The Devil Wears Prada 2 is also trying (with varying degrees of sharpness) to say something about today’s algorithm-driven, cost-conscious, politically correct media landscape — just without ever getting too in-the-weeds for a mainstream crowd. Much of this commentary involves B.J. Novak, who plays Jay, the ambitious finance-bro son of Irv Ravitz (Tibor Feldman, also reprising his role from the original film), the head of Runway’s parent company, Elias-Clark. At one point, Jay brings in a table full of consultants from McKinsey to share their ideas with Miranda, a scene that will make anyone who’s ever lived through similar measures groan. That, at least, makes the film surprisingly substantial and not just a pandering sequel for fangirls (and boys).

Meanwhile, Hathaway slips right back into her old role with ease, and, thankfully, is at her most likable. Tucci and Blunt are similarly delightful. He remains the film’s secret weapon, and Blunt’s dry, razor-edged delivery still lands like a perfectly timed eye-roll. Overall, there’s a well-deserved confidence and warmth that grounds the film. You can tell the leads all had a ball working together again and making it.

And then there’s Streep. Or rather, Miranda Priestly 2.0. The years, it seems, have sanded down her edges. This Miranda is softer, more self-aware, and often the punchline. There’s one particularly cringey gag where, following a budget cut, Miranda is bumped from her usual first-class down to coach on a flight to Italy. And not just that, but she takes the middle seat next to an overweight passenger who has already begun eating. It’s cheap, and it signals an important shift: the once-untouchable ice queen is now, at times, just another player in the joke. It’s a choice, and not a satisfying one. Streep herself doesn’t even look pleased by it.

The film does run a tad long, especially in its final third, and it’s a bit too obvious when it’s laying the groundwork for some surprises and plot twists that pay off later. 

Still, it’s hard to be too mad at something this watchable. Like the original, The Devil Wears Prada 2 has that ineffable, throw-it-on-anytime quality. Sitting in the theater, you can already see yourself months and years from now, half-watching the film on a Sunday afternoon, getting sucked in anyway, even though you’ve already seen it a dozen times or more. Only now, it’ll be on a streaming platform instead of cable.

Yes, times have changed. But some things, thankfully, will always be the same.

That’s all.

I’m giving The Devil Wears Prada 2 a B.