It could have been worse.
Delayed sequels often suggest desperation, if not creative failure. For every exception like “Top Gun: Maverick” we’re punished by that “Zoolander” update or, much worse, “Caddyshack 2.”
“The Devil Wears Prada 2” clears that low bar with a still-solid cast, some genuine yuks and the kind of fan service that doesn’t make our teeth hurt. It struggles to find its purpose and commits a near-unforgivable sin with Meryl Streep’s iconic character, the scene-swiping Miranda Priestly.
This Miranda is too nice. It’s like making Darth Vader cuddly or Hannibal Lecter fond of puppies.
Runway magazine has made the leap to the digital age, but it hasn’t been easy. The film opens with a poorly sourced magazine feature that draws a digital bullseye on the rag.
The solution? Hire hotshot journalist Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway), the Runway alum who is now a respected reporter. Her viral video defense of journalism, seen here as inspiring but gag-inducing in real life, finds her back in Miranda’s inner circle.
Few films genuflect to journalism quite like “Prada 2,” and the timing couldn’t be worse.
Trump WRECKS Norah O’Donnell as her trap for him backfires!@RubinReport: Norah has the gall to reference Trump as a pedophile and r*pist RIGHT AFTER the attack ♂️ pic.twitter.com/MK08ZbK9GQ
— The Rubin Report (@RubinReportShow) April 27, 2026
The reunion is far from smooth, but bigger challenges await. Can Andy generate clicks with her just-the-facts journalism? And will the magazine’s owner commit the cash needed to keep real content afloat?
This isn’t exactly binge-worthy fare, let alone enough to hang a sequel on. Good thing more twists are on the horizon, but even hinting at them runs a huge spoiler risk.
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Hathaway’s Andy remains a do-gooder with a conscience. She’s aghast at income inequality and sees her journalism as a necessary corrective. Yet she delights in dolling up in designer wear handed to her by scene stealing Stanley Tucci, back as the lovable Nigel.
Andy sees no problem soaking in the luxury her position affords her while the “poors” make do with less. The film even features a scene where Miranda must fly coach, making fun of the “plebes” she’s forced to sit near.
The horror, the horror.
Maybe “Prada 2” is the ultimate Hollywood message movie. Down with income inequality, say the A-listers whose riders would dwarf a family of four’s annual budget.
The film’s returning screenwriter, Aline Brosh McKenna, either can’t see that moral hypocrisy, or she knows that “Prada” fans insist on opulence above all else.
“The Devil Wears Prada 2” is targeting a massive $75-80 million debut in North American, with some expecting ticket sales closer to $100 million.
The sequel should earn $100 million internationally for a global start in the $175-190 million range.https://t.co/kdfMKnt678
— Variety (@Variety) April 29, 2026
Some notable new faces fail to launch, from Kenneth Branagh as Miranda’s devoted husband to B.J. Novak as a mogul’s spoiled son. Lucy Liu appears briefly as the ultimate interview “get,” but that’s not the most cringe-worthy part of her role.
And then there’s Streep, bringing back one of her many iconic performances. Her Miranda could slay a dozen bullfighters with a withering glance.
She brings some, but not all, of that ferocity back, but something is missing. Maybe it’s knowing that being a magazine magnate in 2026 is like lording over a treasure trove of Blu-ray discs.
She’s yesterday’s news, but her softening still feels like a cheat.
There’s nothing wrong with Miranda discovering a conscience she buried decades ago, but that character arc is poorly realized. And Emily Blunt gets the worst of the sequel chores. Blunt’s Emily is back and besotted by a nerdy tech gazillionaire Benji Barnes (Justin Theroux, curiously shackled).
Her transformation is even more whiplash-inducing than Miranda’s.
None of the above is as cringe-worthy as Andy’s new romance (sorry, Adrien Grenier!). She has a meet not-so-cute with an Aussie building developer (Patrick Brammall), and their courtship sets a new low in lack-of-screen chemistry.
Why even bother? The romance adds nothing to the story, and the pairing’s “Two Weeks Notice”-style clash never heats up.
But that’s “The Devil Wears Prada 2,” an agreeable collection of shout outs, fashion closeups and member berries gussied it up for our inspection. It’s neither dull nor memorable, and it never makes us pine for Jackie Mason’s attempt to out Rodney Rodney Dangerfield.
It deserves a Miranda raised eyebrow, at best.
HiT or Miss: “The Devil Wears Prada 2” should satiate franchise fans, but the sequel goes wobbly at the worst possible time.