The Devil Wears Prada, But The Friends Are Bargain Basement
As a lover of clothes, more than a lover, I was anxious to see this movie. Yes, I read the book, so go ahead and judge.
When it comes to movies, I bow at the mere mention of the name, Meryl Streep. Having said that, I don't claim to love all her movies. For example, Death Becomes Her and She Devil are an affront to the AFI.
However, she will always get a pass from me, because there is, presently, no actress who can touch her thespian chops. Certainly not her DWP co-star, Anne Hathaway.
But, let's get to the movie of this post.
The Devil Wears :Prada.
Let me focus on one major flaw of this film (yes there are many).
You will remember the lead character, Andy (played by Anne with many levels of blandness) who wants to be a serious journalist, but decides to slum it as an assistant to an assistant at a major New York fashion rag. Isn't that a bitch?
Having personally served in the role of a lackey on the lowest rungs of my earliest career, I get that you want to kill people who treat you like dirt or worse. However, I never did my grunt work at a fashion magazine in a great city.
But, this isn't about me (even though it is my blog, so it could be) so, let's get on with dishing on this movie.
Filled with integrity, Andy goes to work for Miranda Priestly, who is a beast (again, who has not worked for a beast, and who has not been a beast when you are the keeper of the power?)and discovers the shallow world of shoes, color, clothes, hair...well, glamour.
Yes, Andy is intellectually superior (haven't we all worked with an Andy?) to those clacking around in the highest of heels, but after doing her time in the torturous office, she will will be able to write her own ticket in the world of periodicals.
Everyone will want to be her, okay?
The writer of this story shifts Andy into the role of tolerant servant to the high-and-mighty Miranda. She tells her friends and family it will be worth it, all the while transforming herself (thanks to the goodies at the magazine) into a fashion statement.
MY GRIPE
This character needs better friends. and she most definitely needs a new boyfriend. I mean talk about selfish and self-involved twits.
Getting a job is tough, especially in the arena of print media, and living and working in New York amplifies all of that world.
I mean if you can not support your friend in their career goals, you need to shut the hell up, and go sit in your basement and feed your cat.
If you have seen the film, you know Andy's boyfriend is a total jerk, and her friends are not much better on that scale.
MY REWRITE
It's okay to write the boyfriend be a jerk, there are many dwelling all around this world. Plus, I understand this novel was sort of a first-person accounting of life at Vogue and Anna Wintour.
However, I would have written the character, Andy, with a damn spine. At the first signs of jerkhood (see, made up word), I would write a scene where she delivers a simple line.
The scene-nighttime in the rain, on a crowded New York street. The boyfriend has just spewed his hatred for the devil, Miranda, along with Andy's career aspirations. She quietly says, "Go straight to hell, you selfish prick."
Without another word, she spins on her ultra-expensive high-high heels (which she hijacked from the magazine prop room), pops open a designer umbrella (also, hijacked), clomps off in the tightest pencil skirt (same closet hijacking), flips her hair over one shoulder, smiles broadly, and mutters to herself..."Who's the devil now, bitch?"
They were all kind of the devil in this film, including Andy, but this makes it much better.
FADE TO BLACK!
When it comes to movies, I bow at the mere mention of the name, Meryl Streep. Having said that, I don't claim to love all her movies. For example, Death Becomes Her and She Devil are an affront to the AFI.
However, she will always get a pass from me, because there is, presently, no actress who can touch her thespian chops. Certainly not her DWP co-star, Anne Hathaway.
But, let's get to the movie of this post.
The Devil Wears :Prada.
Let me focus on one major flaw of this film (yes there are many).
You will remember the lead character, Andy (played by Anne with many levels of blandness) who wants to be a serious journalist, but decides to slum it as an assistant to an assistant at a major New York fashion rag. Isn't that a bitch?
Having personally served in the role of a lackey on the lowest rungs of my earliest career, I get that you want to kill people who treat you like dirt or worse. However, I never did my grunt work at a fashion magazine in a great city.
But, this isn't about me (even though it is my blog, so it could be) so, let's get on with dishing on this movie.
Filled with integrity, Andy goes to work for Miranda Priestly, who is a beast (again, who has not worked for a beast, and who has not been a beast when you are the keeper of the power?)and discovers the shallow world of shoes, color, clothes, hair...well, glamour.
Yes, Andy is intellectually superior (haven't we all worked with an Andy?) to those clacking around in the highest of heels, but after doing her time in the torturous office, she will will be able to write her own ticket in the world of periodicals.
Everyone will want to be her, okay?
The writer of this story shifts Andy into the role of tolerant servant to the high-and-mighty Miranda. She tells her friends and family it will be worth it, all the while transforming herself (thanks to the goodies at the magazine) into a fashion statement.
MY GRIPE
This character needs better friends. and she most definitely needs a new boyfriend. I mean talk about selfish and self-involved twits.
Getting a job is tough, especially in the arena of print media, and living and working in New York amplifies all of that world.
I mean if you can not support your friend in their career goals, you need to shut the hell up, and go sit in your basement and feed your cat.
If you have seen the film, you know Andy's boyfriend is a total jerk, and her friends are not much better on that scale.
MY REWRITE
It's okay to write the boyfriend be a jerk, there are many dwelling all around this world. Plus, I understand this novel was sort of a first-person accounting of life at Vogue and Anna Wintour.
However, I would have written the character, Andy, with a damn spine. At the first signs of jerkhood (see, made up word), I would write a scene where she delivers a simple line.
The scene-nighttime in the rain, on a crowded New York street. The boyfriend has just spewed his hatred for the devil, Miranda, along with Andy's career aspirations. She quietly says, "Go straight to hell, you selfish prick."
Without another word, she spins on her ultra-expensive high-high heels (which she hijacked from the magazine prop room), pops open a designer umbrella (also, hijacked), clomps off in the tightest pencil skirt (same closet hijacking), flips her hair over one shoulder, smiles broadly, and mutters to herself..."Who's the devil now, bitch?"
They were all kind of the devil in this film, including Andy, but this makes it much better.
FADE TO BLACK!
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