The Devil Wears Prada

Based on the 2004 novel of the same name by Lauren Weisberger, Prada is essentially a tale of good versus evil. Smart, earnest Northwestern grad Andrea Sachs (Hathaway) takes a job as an assistant to mercilessly driven fashion-mag editor Miranda Priestly (Streep). That’s the simple morality play laid out here, but the fashion is what really matters in Prada. If you know your McQueen from Manolo, this movie will not disappoint.

Although the clothes are lovely, Streep is lovelier still as the Devil herself. Riffing on real-life Vogue chief editor Anna “Nuclear” Wintour (for whom Weisberger actually worked), Streep embodies a woman fueled by power and insecurity. Her stinging velvet voice makes the demands, but it is her iconic features that do most of the talking: the eyes that bore into vulnerable assistants, the lips that purse with extreme prejudice and the sharp nose that cuts down swaths of incompetents with each flick of the head.

Unfortunately, Streep’s good acting must do battle against the evils of a weak screenplay. Hathaway shows some real spunk, and the ever-excellent Tucci does a great turn as Miranda’s hard-nosed yet flamboyant right-hand man. Alas, the other characters are merely animate objects inhabiting the film’s pretty urban confines. Ultimately, the movie pits Andrea’s soul against the pretentious trappings of the fashion world, but doesn’t make a great case against the decadence. Score one for evil. —Andy Marchessault