The Devil Wears Prada **
"The Devil Wears Prada" is not funny enough to be a comedy, but it’s also not witty enough to be a satire. It’s stuck in the middle, and I ended up seeing something that was less than mediocre. I guess it is trying to be a satire of the fashion industry, and what people will do to get to certain heights, but it could have said that without such a shoddy script, and a supporting cast that you could just cry about.
Anne Hathaway is fine as Andie Sacks, who wants to be a journalist, and ends up getting a job as a secretary for the most powerful woman in fashion, Miranda. . . something I forget the last name. She’s the main editor of Runway Magazine, one of the top fashion magazines around. She’s picked as the secretary, but is nothing like the other girls. She’s not fat to me, but to the other workers she’s a cow. She doesn’t dress in stylish and sleek black dresses like the others, but wears brown shirts and solid color sweaters. And she doesn’t like the high heels either. The problem is Miranda is cold hearted. She likes things to be her way, and very organized. She gets angry if her breakfast isn’t on her desk the second she wants it, and she pretty much likes it when her staff is already one step ahead of her. And she’s also calling Andie every single second of the day. And if thats not enough for her to worry about, there’s Emily, the first assistant who treats Andie almost as harsh as Miranda does. If it’s not about her clothes, its about the way she does the work, and if its not about the way she does the work it’s about how great Miranda is, and how meek and small Andie is. But slowly, Andie begins to change. First it’s the clothes. She starts to dress like them. And then it’s her hours. Her schedule soon revolves around what Miranda needs to have done, which of course has to tick off her friends-not only the "lovable boyfriend with the heart of gold," but also the token female, and the cliche gay guy who likes how his friend has a job working with fashion more than the female.
There’s really nothing more to say. The plot is nothing, really. It’s hopelessly stuck in clicheworld, and at some times it’s not even entertaining. After a while it becomes tiresome, and if I didn’t leave my cell phone at home I would’ve checked the time a couple of times. Hathaway is good here, and Meryl Streep is pitch perfect. Even Stanley Tucci is fine, but the supporting work-especially Hathaway’s friends-was just godawful. And that music. Ahhh. . . make it stop. It could have been better. . . it should have been better. I wish I knew more about Miranda, because than Streep would have been on the screen more, and that’s one of the many things that the movie needed. I’ve seen some good satire in 2006, "Thank You For Smoking" and "American Dreamz" come to mind, but this is not one of them. These performances deserve better. . .