What does it truly take to succeed? Is it talent, relentless drive, or simply the willingness to surrender a piece of your soul? These are the questions that lie at the impeccably dressed heart of David Frankel’s 2006 film, The Devil Wears Prada. More than just a scathing satire of the fashion industry, this film has cemented itself as a cultural touchstone, a brilliant dissection of mentorship gone toxic, and a surprising commentary on the often-invisible machinations of power.
Based on Lauren Weisberger’s roman à clef (a novel in which real people or events appear with invented names), the movie transcends its “chick flick” label to deliver a sharp, witty, and unexpectedly profound exploration of ambition.
From my first viewing to my most recent, it has never failed to reveal a new layer, a subtle inflection in Meryl Streep’s delivery, or a sartorial detail that speaks volumes.
This isn’t just a movie; it’s a mirror held up to everyone who has ever had a boss, a dream, or a crisis of conscience. This The Devil Wears Prada film review aims to unpack why this film continues to resonate so powerfully nearly two decades later.
Table of Contents
Plot Summary: A Faustian Pact on Fifth Avenue
The narrative of The Devil Wears Prada film follows the classic hero’s journey, albeit one set in the gleaming, frosty offices of Runway magazine. Andrea “Andy” Sachs (Anne Hathaway), a recent Northwestern journalism graduate with earnest ambitions and a closet full of “lumpy blue sweaters,” stumbles into what she believes is a mere stepping stone: the position of junior assistant to Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep), the editor-in-chief of Runway and the most powerful woman in fashion.
Andy’s initial disdain for the superficial world she’s entered is palpable. She is an island of earnestness in a sea of cynicism, particularly embodied by Miranda’s senior assistant, Emily Charlton (Emily Blunt in a star-making performance), who views Andy with a mixture of contempt and pity. Andy’s plan is simple: endure a year of hell, leverage the job’s prestige for a real journalism gig, and remain true to herself and her supportive but increasingly distant boyfriend, Nate (Adrian Grenier).
The film’s central conflict is Andy’s gradual, insidious transformation. Miranda’s demands are not merely difficult; they are Sisyphean tasks designed to break the spirit. The infamous pursuit of the unpublished manuscript of Harry Potter for Miranda’s twins is not a plot point about a book; it is a trial by fire, a test of resourcefulness and devotion.
After a spectacular failure to navigate Miranda home during a hurricane, a humiliated Andy seeks guidance from Runway’s art director, the kind-hearted and stylish Nigel (Stanley Tucci).
This marks the turning point. Nigel’s intervention is not just a makeover; it is an armoring. He teaches her the language of this foreign land, and in learning to speak it, Andy begins to understand its power.
As Andy becomes more competent and, crucially, more aesthetically aligned with the Runway ethos, Miranda begins to trust her with greater responsibilities.
We witness Andy’s moral compass waver. She outperforms ailing Emily, ultimately securing the coveted spot alongside Miranda at Paris Fashion Week—a betrayal that severs her last connection to her old life, as her personal relationships crumble under the weight of her ambition. Nate’s accusation that she has become one of the “spoiled, self-absorbed girls” she once ridiculed lands with the force of a truth she can no longer avoid.
The third act in Paris is where the film reveals its Shakespearean depth. Behind the glamorous façade, the mechanisms of power are laid bare.
Miranda, facing a corporate coup, sacrifices her loyal ally Nigel to save her own position. When a horrified Andy confronts her, Miranda delivers the film’s chilling thesis statement: “You want this life? This is what it takes.” In that moment, Andy sees her potential future reflected in Miranda’s ruthlessly pragmatic eyes.
Her decision to quit, to toss her ringing phone into the Fontaine de la Concorde, is not a rejection of success, but a reclamation of self. The final grace note, where Miranda—seated in her limousine—allows herself a small, proud smile at Andy’s defiance, suggests a complex respect. The cycle continues, but Andy has broken free.
Analysis
1. Direction and Cinematography
David Frankel’s direction is a masterclass in tone. He navigates a precarious tightrope, balancing high comedy with genuine drama without ever tipping into outright farce or melodrama. His background with Sex and the City is evident in the film’s polished, vibrant aesthetic, but his approach here is more nuanced. He treats the fashion world not with mockery, but with a documentarian’s eye for detail, allowing the audience to be as seduced by its beauty as Andy is.
Cinematographer Florian Ballhaus employs a clever visual strategy. The early New York scenes are shot with a slightly more handheld, realistic quality, reflecting Andy’s disorientation.
As she becomes more integrated into the world of Runway, the visuals become more composed, glamorous, and steady. The iconic montage of Andy’s transformation, set to Madonna’s “Vogue,” uses quick cuts and passing vehicles to cleverly mask her outfit changes, creating a sense of whirlwind, life-altering momentum.
The camera often lingers on textures—the wool of a coat, the silk of a scarf, the cold gleam of marble floors—immersing us in a tactile world of luxury. Frankel and Ballhaus use New York City not just as a backdrop but as a character itself, its energy and pace mirroring the relentless drive of its inhabitants.
2. Acting Performances
It is impossible to discuss The Devil Wears Prada film without bowing to the altar of Meryl Streep. Her performance as Miranda Priestly is nothing short of iconic, a lesson in how to command a screen with quiet power rather than bombast.
She based Miranda’s whispery, deliberate diction on Clint Eastwood, understanding that the person who doesn’t need to raise their voice is the most powerful in the room. Streep strips the character of any mustache-twirling villainy. Instead, she gives us a formidable, isolated, and terrifyingly competent woman who is acutely aware of the immense responsibility and pressure of her global brand.
The fleeting, unmasked moment where she confesses her fears about her impending divorce to Andy is devastating precisely because it is so rare and so vulnerable.
Anne Hathaway holds her own opposite this force of nature. Her arc from wide-eyed naivete to polished professional to disillusioned survivor is entirely believable. We feel her initial humiliation, her thrill of competence, and her ultimate revulsion.
Emily Blunt steals every scene she is in as Emily, delivering withering one-liners with surgical precision while also revealing the pathetic, human cost of worshipping at the altar of fashion. Her declaration of “I love my job” through flu-ridden misery is both hilarious and tragic. Stanley Tucci provides the film’s warm, beating heart as Nigel, whose wisdom and kindness offer Andy her only true guidance.
His performance is a graceful reminder that in a world of artifice, authenticity is the most valuable currency.
3. Script and Dialogue
Aline Brosh McKenna’s screenplay is the film’s sturdy backbone. It smartly streamlines the novel’s plot, focusing the narrative on the compelling mentor-mentee relationship between Miranda and Andy and inventing a stronger third act. The dialogue is relentlessly quotable, having seeped into the cultural lexicon like few other films from the era.
The genius of the script lies in two legendary monologues. The first is the “cerulean sweater” speech. What originated as a few tossed-off lines became, at Streep’s insistence, a breathtaking dissection of the fashion industry’s trickle-down economics and a brutal takedown of Andy’s intellectual snobbery.
It’s a speech that argues for the cultural and economic significance of an industry often dismissed as frivolous, and it forever changes how Andy—and the audience—views the world she has entered.
The second is the deceptively simple line: “Florals? For spring? Groundbreaking.” In just three words, McKenna and Streep convey a universe of withering sarcasm, exhausted expertise, and the crushing weight of cyclical trends. This line exemplifies the script’s ability to find immense meaning in the mundane details of a hyper-specific world.
4. Music and Sound Design
The soundtrack of The Devil Wears Prada film is a perfectly curated mix of original score and pop songs that expertly underscore the narrative. Theodore Shapiro’s score is chic and contemporary, blending guitar and percussion with orchestral elements to capture New York’s urban rhythm. But it is the needle drops that truly define the film’s atmosphere. KT Tunstall’s “Suddenly I See” perfectly scores the opening credits, its lyrics about the power of a woman’s image mirroring Andy’s entrance into a world obsessed with exactly that.
Madonna’s “Vogue” is an on-the-nose but utterly perfect choice for Andy’s makeover, while the use of U2’s “City of Blinding Lights” in Paris lends the sequence a bittersweet, majestic grandeur that contrasts with the cynical corporate mach happening beneath the surface.
5. Themes and Messages
On its surface, The Devil Wears Prada film is a workplace comedy. But its enduring power comes from its deeper, more complex themes. It is a film about identity and assimilation. Andy doesn’t just change her clothes; she changes her posture, her priorities, and her moral code. The film asks whether success requires such a sacrifice.
It is also a nuanced study of power and gender. Miranda Priestly is a fascinating figure because her power is absolute, yet she must constantly defend it in a way a man in her position likely would not. Her cruelty is often a performance, a tool wielded to maintain control in a cutthroat environment. The film doesn’t excuse her behavior, but it contextualizes it, offering a glimpse of the immense personal cost of her throne.
Finally, it is about the illusion of choice. Miranda’s cerulean speech brilliantly argues that even those who believe themselves immune to fashion are still beholden to the choices of a select few. This idea has been debated and applied to critiques of cultural appropriation and the changing nature of trendsetting in the social media age, proving the scene’s remarkable intellectual longevity.
Comparison
While often grouped with other female-led comedies like Legally Blonde or 13 Going on 30, The Devil Wears Prada film shares more DNA with corporate dramas like Wall Street (1987). It is a Faustian tale where the protagonist is seduced by the trappings of power, with Miranda standing in for Gordon Gekko.
However, its focus on a female-driven industry and the specific, unspoken pressures on women in power makes it unique. It is also a far more sophisticated and successful film than its source material, elevating a straightforward revenge fantasy into a morally ambiguous and character-rich story.
Audience Appeal and Reception
The film was a smash hit, grossing over $326 million worldwide against a $35 million budget, proving the immense power of the female audience. While marketed heavily to women, its themes of power, integrity, and workplace dynamics have given it a broad, enduring appeal.
Critics were overwhelmingly positive, particularly towards Streep, who won a Golden Globe and received her 14th Oscar nomination for the role. The film has a 75% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, with a consensus that calls it “a witty expose of New York’s fashion scene, with Meryl Streep in top form.”
Personal Insight: The Lesson of the Lumpy Blue Sweeper Today
Watching The Devil Wears Prada film today feels strikingly different than it did in 2006. We now live in the era of the “girlboss,” a term that has since been scrutinized and largely discredited. The film feels almost prophetic. Miranda Priestly is the original girlboss archetype—a woman who broke the glass ceiling but then pulled the ladder up behind her, upholding a toxic system rather than reforming it.
The film’s central question for a modern audience is less about whether Andy should sell her soul, but whether the entire concept of “selling your soul” has been normalized. In a gig economy where boundaries are blurred and burnout is common, Miranda’s unreasonable demands feel less like exaggerated comedy and more like a dark reflection of modern work culture.
The pressure to be always available, to go above and beyond, to treat your job as a sacred calling—Andy’s journey is one many now recognize.
Yet, the film’s ultimate message remains vital. Andy’s rejection of that world is not an anti-ambition message. It is a pro-integrity one. It argues that success on someone else’s corrosive terms is failure. In an age where we are constantly curating our personal brands online, the film is a timeless reminder to periodically check in with that core self, the one in the lumpy blue sweater, and ask: is this still who I want to be?
Quotations
- “By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me.” – Miranda Priestly
- “I’m just one stomach flu away from my goal weight.” – Emily Charlton
- “You have no style or sense of fashion.” – Nigel Kipling
- “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Andrea. Everybody wants this. Everybody wants to be us.” – Miranda Priestly
Pros and Cons
Pros:
- Meryl Streep’s legendary, nuanced performance.
- Sharp, intelligent, and endlessly quotable screenplay.
- Excellent supporting turns from Emily Blunt and Stanley Tucci.
- A superb soundtrack that perfectly complements the narrative.
- Glossy, captivating cinematography that makes fashion a character.
- Deeper thematic weight that rewards multiple viewings.
Cons:
- The boyfriend Nate character is underwritten and can come across as overly whiny.
- Some plot elements, like Andy’s journalist dreams, feel slightly underexplored.
Conclusion
The Devil Wears Prada film is a rare perfect storm of filmmaking: a brilliant script, impeccable direction, and career-defining performances across the board. It is a film that has only grown in stature and relevance, evolving from a fun fashion satire into a serious examination of the compromises we make for success.
It is witty, devastating, glamorous, and profoundly human. Whether you’re a cinephile analyzing its themes or a casual viewer looking for a deliciously entertaining film, it delivers on every level.
It is, without a doubt, not just a classic of its genre but a genuine modern masterpiece. A must-watch, and a must-rewatch.
Rating: 5/5 Stars
