The real twist (if you can call it that) of 2006’s “The Devil Wears Prada,” for those in the know, is that Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) isn’t so much the devil, but a flawed, driven, insanely exacting woman. Working for her, or near her, is a nightmare, but you admire her style and her a bility to get things done. How does (quick math, lies facedown on floor) 20 years treat that kind of character? Is there accountability? Has there been a reckoning? If you’re “The Devil Wears Prada 2,” the answer is … Eh, not really.  Based on the book by Lauren Weisberger and once again directed by David Frankel with a screenplay by Aline Brosh McKenna, the movie opens with Runway, the fictional Vogue magazine stand-in, and Miranda, in particular, in hot water after publishing a pro-fast fashion feature. At the same time, Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) — formerly an assistant to Miranda, now an award-winning journalist — has just been informed via text, alongside a table of colleagues, that they’re out of a job because the paper they write for has been gutted by a billionaire. Back to Runway Andy goes, handpicked as the features editor tasked with cleaning up the magazine’s mess.  You’re all very smart people, so you probably know this already: billionaires are problematic, and good and true things like journalism and art are in peril. Transient consultants become an easy, faceless fix for companies looking to avoid the humanity at the heart of work, and AI slop threatens to replace human-led design and creativity. The movie knows this, too, or at least it wants you to think it knows it, but also can’t quite reconcile how to get there. Because running parallel to Runway’s rehabilitation and Andy’s reintegration with the fashion world is the looming threat of the magazine shuttering for good without the infusion of massive funds and some last-minute aid from the one percent.  A great many silly and familiar (compliment) things happen along the way, including but not limited to: Lucy Liu as a MacKenzie Scott-esque divorcee looking to make her mark; de-hotted Justin Theroux as her doofy, rich ex-husband who is now dating Miranda’s other former assistant Emily (Emily Blunt, always stealing scenes); and Nigel (Stanley Tucci) still mostly suffering in silence while giving stellar side-eye. Tracie Thoms (a welcome holdover from the first film) and Rachel Bloom as Andy’s friends, and Patrick Brammall as her new love interest, help provide Andy with a modicum of grounding, which is a strong lane for Hathaway. Streep still swoops and struts with purpose, relishing the opportunity once again to don that grey bob wig. As Andy has gotten more confident with age, so has Miranda softened ever-so-slightly, and both actresses (along with Blunt) shine when allowed to play off one another.  Back to the billionaire’s dilemma. The problem with pulling stories from the real world and art imitating life is that much of life is bad right now. And tugging at that thread threatens to make every film a doomsday scenario. We shouldn’t turn a blind eye to any of it, but can’t we also sit for two hours in the dark and lose ourselves to the power of cinema? Time spent in this movie’s orbit is not wasted, but even with a glossy top coat, its plot is a stark reminder that while it’s not difficult to be a good person, it’s far trickier to move through the world untouched by the less savory bits.  We can’t really have our cake (or popcorn) and eat it too, but we can savor, if for a short time, the legacy of cerulean, the preservation of journalistic ethics and a final turn through the fashion closet. That’s all.  Johanna Lester is a pop culture critic who mainlines movies, TV and the best cookies Rochester has to offer. She’ll also hold that grudge on your behalf. Follow her @theauntjojo. The post REVIEW | ‘The Devil Wears Prada 2’ appeared first on CITY Magazine. Arts. Music. Culture.. ...read more read less