The Devil Wears Prada (2006)


David Frankel directs Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep and Emily Blunt in this glossy, bitchy chick-lit treat about a journalism graduate who excels as an assistant to a ruthless fashion editor.

If you told me 10 years ago that a mash-up of Cinderella and Working Girl would become probably the most rewatched DVD in my collection I would have scoffed. But I cannot help but rate this gorgeously attired comedy drama and find my self drifting back to its colourful yet acidic pleasures on at least a yearly basis. There are four great leads – with Hathaway as our corruptible ingenue, Streep as the ice cold boss from Hell (in a role that feels like the cornerstone of her entire oeuvre), star of the show Emily Blunt as a loveable megabitch showing inept headliner the ropes with withering disdain, and the ever resplendent Stanley Tucci managing to somehow find fathoms of depth in the fairy godmother role lifted straight from Hector Elizondo in Pretty Woman. Sure, the male eye candy is uniformly weak and/or sleazy but this is a narrative where the kissing and cuddling is so low down on the pecking order of priorities as to be more a frustrating distraction. It is a film where the rock is failure at near impossible but career enhancing tasks and the hard place is losing one’s soul, freedom and personality to your employer… and watching Hathaway and Blunt navigate that tight labyrinth in impeccable outfits is an absolute pleasure.


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