‘The Devil Wears Prada 2’ Serves Up Glossy Fan Service but Lacks the Original’s Bite

Key facts

• The sequel is set 20 years after the original, directed again by David Frankel and written by Aline Brosh McKenna.
• Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway, Emily Blunt, and Stanley Tucci reprise their roles; Lucy Liu, B.J. Novak, and Patrick Brammall join the cast.
• Andy Sachs, now an award-winning investigative journalist, is fired by text when her newspaper folds and is headhunted as Runway’s features editor.
• Runway faces a PR crisis after accidentally endorsing a sweatshop fast-fashion label; Miranda Priestly is unaware of Andy’s hiring.
• The film’s third act pits billionaires against each other in a battle for Runway’s soul, set in Milan.
• The movie runs 119 minutes and is rated PG-13; it premiered at Cineworld Leicester Square, London on April 22, 2026.
• Box office previews grossed $10 million, indicating strong fan interest.
• The sequel recycles plot beats from the first film, including Nigel’s pep talks and a cameo of Andy’s blue sweater.

A Familiar Face Returns to a Changed Runway

Two decades after she fled the gilded cage of Runway magazine, Andrea Sachs is back — but not by choice. The sequel opens with Andy, now a sleek, confident investigative journalist, accepting an award at a gala for her work at the left-leaning New York Vanguard. Her triumph is cut short when she and her colleagues are simultaneously fired by text message, another legacy publication succumbing to the digital age. Within days, Andy is headhunted by Runway’s group chairman Irv Ravitz to become the magazine’s new features editor, tasked with rehabilitating its image after a disastrous endorsement of a sweatshop-based fast-fashion label. The irony is not lost on her: the same magazine that once symbolized vapid consumerism now needs a serious journalist to salvage its credibility.

Miranda Priestly, Unchanged and Unforgiving

When Andy arrives at Runway’s offices, Miranda Priestly — still imperious, still clad in couture, still wielding her withering gaze — does not remember her. The editor-in-chief, played by Meryl Streep with the same hushed, lacerating delivery, gives Andy’s outfit a disapproving once-over before parking her in the smallest office available. The power dynamic is instantly reestablished: Miranda is as impossible to please as ever, and Andy is once again the outsider scrambling to prove herself. The sequel updates Miranda’s workplace tyranny for a more sensitive era. Her coat and handbag are no longer hurled onto assistants’ desks, thanks to an HR complaint. Her new hyper-competent first assistant Amari (Simone Ashley) discreetly corrects her when she risks culturally insensitive remarks. Yet the sting of Miranda’s haughty disdain remains intact, delivered with supreme poise and an acid tongue that fans have come to adore.

New Rivals and Old Allies in a Shifting Landscape

The core trio of women from the original film is reconfigured into new adversarial positions. Emily Charlton (Emily Blunt), once Miranda’s top assistant, is now the head of Dior, wielding her own brand of icy authority. She makes the shrewd observation that ultra-luxury brands are recession-proof, and she is not above using her power to needle Andy. Meanwhile, Stanley Tucci’s Nigel remains Runway’s long-suffering creative director, offering Andy tough-love pep talks at opportune moments. The film introduces new antagonists: tech billionaire Benji Barnes (Justin Theroux), a Jeff Bezos-like figure who seeks to buy Runway as a toy for his calculating girlfriend, and his ex-wife Sasha Barnes (Lucy Liu), an elusive tycoon whom Andy must interview. B.J. Novak plays a terminally unchic tech bro looking to cut corners. The threat to Miranda’s queendom is no longer a French editor but a digital disruptor, reflecting the real-world pressures on legacy media.

A Battle for Runway’s Soul in Milan

The film’s glitzy third act moves to Milan, where the fate of Runway is decided in a clash between billionaires with varying degrees of moral virtue. The stakes are corporate rather than personal: the magazine’s soul is up for grabs, not Andy’s career or Miranda’s throne. This shift from individual drama to high-stakes business maneuvering makes for less compelling narrative tension, but it offers a cynical commentary on the state of media ownership. Andy’s romantic subplot with an Australian architect, Peter (Patrick Brammall), is tepid and chemistry-free, serving mainly to highlight the film’s muddled stance on luxury real estate. Kenneth Branagh appears in a baffling cameo as Miranda’s doting husband, a violinist in a string quartet — a far cry from the divorce-bound husband of the original. These subplots feel like placeholder distractions from the core dynamic that fans came to see.

Recycled Beats and Nostalgic Comfort

The sequel is less a follow-up than a tribute act, faithfully replaying the comic and dramatic highs of the first film with the same moves and cadences. Andy dishes with Nigel in the cafeteria; Nigel picks out clothes for her; she visits Miranda’s Hamptons home; she frantically engages in backstairs shenanigans to protect Miranda from a corporate coup. For connoisseurs, there is even a reappearance of Andy’s awful blue polyblend sweater. The film’s chief pleasures come from the practiced professionalism of its cast. Streep’s Miranda remains the MVP, her line readings and body language inviting awe. The script, by Aline Brosh McKenna, is peppered with amusingly brittle dialogue and jabs at the current dire state of media. Yet the film lacks the crisp, gleaming look of the original; cinematographer Florian Ballhaus returns, but the grayish veil over many scenes illustrates how standards of studio lighting have diminished.

A Gutsy but Flawed Attempt at Relevance

The sequel aims to capture the fraught spirit of its moment, set after a global recession, a pandemic, and a social media revolution. It tackles the death of journalism, the enshittification of media, and the hollowing out of legacy publications. Andy’s viral acceptance speech excoriates a media company that took a $500 million write-down while its CEO earned $11 million. These are gutsy themes for a glossy sequel, but they sit uneasily alongside the film’s own status as a corporate product. The movie gestures toward real-world issues — sweatshop labor, housing crises, digital disruption — but ultimately sells the fantasy. A digitally scrubbed Manhattan skyline omits the controversial 262 Fifth Avenue skyscraper, preserving a nostalgic glow. The film cannot decide whether it is critiquing conspicuous wealth or endorsing it, leaving viewers with whiplash. This ambivalence may not bother the target audience, who come for the glamour and romance, but it prevents the sequel from achieving the cultural resonance of its predecessor.

A Lesser Movie That Still Entertains

By almost any metric, ‘The Devil Wears Prada 2’ is a lesser movie: narratively, emotionally, and cinematically flatter than the original. It is buoyed by game performances that steadfastly fail to surprise, and it illustrates how much has been taken from mainstream Hollywood moviemaking since 2006. Yet it is not willfully enshittified; it is made with intelligence and respect for its predecessor and its fans. The film’s chief pleasures are those of practiced professionals doing their job well. The combined chemistry of the cast ensures that, for good long stretches, the sequel feels like old times. But it is hard to imagine fans cherishing repeat viewings to the same extent. As Miranda says, “Boy, I love working” — and work, as this alternately breezy and pessimistic crowdpleaser reminds us, is not to be taken for granted. In the end, the sequel is a serviceable, diverting piece of fan service that will satisfy cravings for nostalgia but little more.

The bottom line

• The sequel reunites the original cast and creative team but recycles plot beats from the first film, resulting in a tribute act rather than a fresh story.
• Andy Sachs returns to Runway as a features editor after being laid off from a serious journalism job, highlighting the decline of legacy media.
• Miranda Priestly remains unchanged, but the film updates her workplace behavior for a more sensitive era, including HR complaints and cultural sensitivity corrections.
• The film tackles contemporary issues like sweatshop labor, media enshittification, and corporate greed, but struggles to balance critique with its own glossy fantasy.
• New characters include a tech billionaire (Justin Theroux), a Dior executive (Emily Blunt), and a tepid love interest (Patrick Brammall), but the core dynamic between Andy and Miranda remains the draw.
• The movie earned $10 million in previews, indicating strong fan interest, but critics note it lacks the original’s cultural staying power and emotional depth.