When I was about 13, we got a kitten. We hadn’t had a cat for a period of about 6 months; quite sometime for us to go without a cat. We had a dog and a bird, but it just wasn’t the same. We got this kitten that was all white except for a small black mark on her head. We named her Sasquatch, initially because she was all white. We later found out that the name was entirely appropriate because she was a total monster. On the other hand, she was so cute she could peel the paint off an ocean liner. Seriously, I think cuteness of that magnitude is illegal in some states.
The Devil Wears Prada is like Sasquatch. At first look, it appears, cute, fluffy, and harmless. You pet it, play with it with a ball of yarn, laugh and smile, and it playfully attacks your hand. But after you’re finished, you notice that your hand is all scratched up and bleeding from the kitten’s little claws and teeth. And you think, “did that little thing really do all this?”
Anne Hathaway (no, not the wife of Shakespeare) stars in this little comedy as Andy Sachs, though Meryl Streep gets top billing. Part of me thinks that’s unfair, but then I think, “hey, it’s Meryl Streep.” Speaking of Meryl, I cannot say enough good things about her performance in this movie. Instead of making us hate her character through loathsome and instantly enraging acts, she instead chooses crushing indifference. The way she lightly says “that’s all” simultaneously implies apathy, condescension, and finality. She’s calm, cool, collected, and in charge, and she doesn’t let anything ruffle her. Well, almost anything, but I don’t want to give a spoiler.
This is not to impugn Anne Hathaway’s performance, or the many great supporting performances. Anne simply glows with that charm and appeal she radiates as second nature. Given the right role, she has the ability to draw you in, even in saccharine Disney movies like The Princess Diaries or its sequel. Stanley Tucci and Emily Blunt are fantastic in their roles as scenery-chewing fashionistas, slaves to the whim of the almighty Miranda Priestly (Streep’s character). Even Adrian Greiner gives a competent performance as the boyfriend who stretches to ridiculous lengths in the wake of Andy’s transformation, but only so far.
The characters in The Devil Wears Prada aren’t one-dimensional or paper cutouts, as would be expected in a fluffy comedy like this one. It only appears fluffy, though. Like Sasquatch, it has unexpected claws. It ever-so-gently skewers the fashion industry, and you see the materialistic nature of it. Andy is definitely not a fashionista, but through working at Runway magazine, she starts to become one. The question that the movie presents is “does she want to advance in her job, or keep her integrity and humanness?” It’s a great job, but not one for her. We as the audience know that, but Andy at some point forgets.
This movie appears nice and quaint, and it is, but it also has barbs that you appreciate, mostly because they’re directed at the movie itself and not at you, the audience. Enjoy it, but be wary of its claws. It may be cute, but it’s really a Sasquatch.
“I’m on this new diet where I don’t eat, and then when I feel like I’m about to faint, I have a cheese cube. I’m one stomach flu away from reaching my goal weight.”
“That’s all.”
“The person whose calls you always take? That’s the relationship you’re in.”
Particle Man
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