How, exactly, is Miranda the ‘Devil’?
The mostly outstanding cast, brisk storytelling, and watertight film-making all combine to make The Devil Wears Prada very, very watchable. Which is, perhaps, why (what may be) nitpicking about the story comes between my viewing and my enjoyment of the film. (And though I don’t mean to imply I think this is because of scriptwriter Aline Brosh-McKenna, this isn’t the first working girl comedy of hers I’ve found… confusing in its messaging). So let’s unpack the confusion here.
Is this working girl comedy about growing wiser, or growing more idealistic? Can it be both? How? Or if not, why not?
The only move Miranda Divine (Meryl Streep) makes that is in any way not ‘nice’ is a strategic business manoeuver. It’s not the most ‘mates before dates’ move, but then how many captains of industry got to where they are by trying to make (or keep) friends? And she is revered for being that captain, is she not?
I’m also not really sure that the character of Andy (Anne Hathaway) develops in any way. She starts out the film morally superior, and she ends the film morally superior – yet at neither end is it established what makes her superior, and along the way we see just how petty, irresponsible, and morally… well, if not inferior, certainly more dishonest, she is than everyone around her. Her final walk-away moment is played as victorious, yet it isn’t: abandoning a promising high-powered career high on the air of one’s own righteousness is not a triumph of character, it’s a privileged lifestyle choice. The fact that she walks away is inherently neither good nor bad; the fact that she feels morally superior doing so, and that by extension we’re supposed to feel that way too, contradicts everything the film has actually shown us.
What Andy actually rejects is learning from, and personal responsibility for, her own choices. Her character’s lack of growth or understanding of the business world, fashion or otherwise, is laid bare a couple of scenes earlier when shirtless-Simon Baker-Denny, post-lay, lays out for her the behind-the-scenes machinations of the industry, which could be any industry, in which she has chosen to participate. Similarly, Nigel (Stanley Tucci) chides Andy for choosing to remain at a job she doesn’t actually want, and whine about it and pity herself, all while considering it beneath her. And by the film’s end, she still feels that way.
Andy begins and ends the film unemployed. At the film’s beginning, this is seen as a bad thing, something to be remedied with a job – any job – and she happens to luck into the kind of job “a million other girls would kill for”. But by the film’s end, her lack of gainful employment is seen as a good thing, especially if it’s for love – which also conveniently frees her up to follow her man, with whom she’s now allowed to get back together, to another city for the sake of his career.
Not satire, comedy, romance, or character study – but it is ironic… though perhaps not in the way it wants to be?
The premise of The Devil…, as far as I can tell, seems to be that we (the audience) as outsiders have a naïve view of the fashion industry, and that the ‘average’ girl might just as easily trip over and fall into a glamorous career as lose her soul in the process. What makes this telling more interesting is that it actually offers insights into both the idiosyncracies and wider influence of the industry, portrays participation in it as involving hard work and significant personal sacrifice, and even puts a human face or two on it while othering the “real” people and exposing their ironically shallow critiques. What makes The Devil… entertaining is the wonderful, charismatic performances of the former – but which are at odds with the forgettable performances of the latter. This is obviously deliberate, and it doesn’t support Andy’s supposed character arc.
Is the fashion industry meant to be perceived as glamorous yet sinister, seductive yet ultimately vacuous? The film doesn’t seem to say this – and indeed, there are some succinct, smirking monologues which bulls-eye the relevance and role of the industry in culture. At other times, The Devil… seems to put the fashion industry on the kind of emotional pedestal it (kind of mockingly) chides its audience for potentially doing – and that only muddles the messaging further:
For me, the confusion doesn’t end there. I’m not really sure who or what the satire (if it can be called that) in this film is supposed to be aimed at. The fashion industry characters – Miranda, Emily (Emily Blunt), and particularly Nigel – each have at least one sympathetic moment which adds an extra dimension to what could easily have been lazy caricatures; meanwhile, the more “real” characters – Andy, her friends, and particularly her boyfriend (Adrian Grenier) – are barely characters at all. Andy at one point mentions that her personal life is “hanging by a thread” – yet there’s been no overt tension from her generally supportive, if passive, boyfriend until after this statement from her. Character underdevelopment? Possibly. Something lost in editing? Also possible. Lack of nuance in Grenier’s performance? Equally possible. Meryl Streep does more with a flicker of her eyes and her unmodulated voice than Grenier does with all his scenes combined. Though, to be fair:
in what universe is a Grenier going to balance out a Streep as opposing forces in a Hathaway’s life?
The Devil Wears Prada trades on what it expects our assumptions about the fashion industry to be, but ultimately neither challenges nor reinforces them. It’s not satire, comedy, romance, or a character study – but it is ironic… though perhaps not in the way it wants to be? The film chooses to remain as shallow as it seems to portray the fashion industry as being, and as superficial as it (perhaps deliberately?) renders Andy as a character.
Further Viewing
One voice which could turn me around on this Lessons From The Screenplay, and this examination the efficient character- and world-building within the opening minutes of the film (or more specifically, the opening pages of the script):
Where I see Andy as entitlement colliding clumsily with competitive industry, Cinema Therapy sees a principled individual being corrupted. I love their channel, and almost always enjoy their wholesome takes. And while I see where they’re coming from on this one, I couldn’t disagree with them more:
… and apparently, others took issue with their reading as well – so they did a take 2: