The Most Awkward Cameo in The Devil Wears Prada 2

The latest installment in the Devil franchise has been met with mixed reviews, but one aspect of the film stands out: its disturbing tendency to elevate the fashion industry to an almost sacred status. Gone is the nuance and ambivalence that made the original so effective; instead, we’re left with a movie that treats fashion as art, untainted by commerce or the darker aspects of human nature.

The film’s use of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper as a backdrop for its climactic scene is a telling move. The painting depicts Jesus and his disciples sharing bread, a symbol of community and shared humanity. In this context, however, it’s clear that the filmmakers are using it to make a grand statement about the fashion industry: that it’s not just a commercial endeavor, but a sacred institution worthy of reverence.

The original Devil was notable for its critique of the fashion world’s pretensions. Andy Sachs, played by Anne Hathaway, was a complex character who both adored and resented the industry she worked in. In contrast, the sequel introduces Benji Barnes, a tech mogul with a god complex, who embodies the excesses of big data and finance. However, Barnes feels more like a caricature than a fully fleshed-out character.

Barnes’s absurdity and foolishness are played for laughs, but ultimately he serves as a placeholder for the film’s real villain: the fashion industry itself. The filmmakers have taken the first film’s critique of fashion’s superficiality and flipped it on its head, instead elevating the industry to an almost mythic status.

This idolization is not only problematic; it’s also historically inaccurate. The original Devil acknowledged the complex relationships between art, commerce, and power. Fashion was neither purely good nor evil – but rather a messy, complicated thing that reflected both human creativity and base commercial interests.

In contrast, The Devil Wears Prada 2 strips fashion of its nuance, reducing it to a simplistic struggle between “good” art and “bad” commerce. This is a loss not only for the film itself, but also for our understanding of the world we live in. By elevating the fashion industry to an almost sacred status, the filmmakers are reinforcing a damaging narrative: that certain industries or pursuits are inherently more valuable or worthy than others.

This trend has been evident in the recent resurgence of “artisanal” and “small-batch” consumerism. The fetishization of luxury brands and bespoke craftsmanship has created a cultural landscape where value is determined by price, rarity, and exclusivity rather than quality or practicality. Objects are valued not for their functionality or aesthetic appeal, but for their status as symbols of wealth and power.

The implications of this trend are far-reaching – and disturbing. By elevating certain industries or pursuits to an almost sacred status, we’re creating a cultural hierarchy that reinforces inequality and exclusivity. We’re reinforcing the notion that some people are more worthy or valuable than others based on their occupation, income, or status.

In The Devil Wears Prada 2, this trend is manifest in Miranda Priestly’s character. Meryl Streep’s performance is still captivating, but the character herself has been stripped of her monstrosity – reduced to a mere mortal who deserves our sympathy rather than fear or revulsion. The result is a film that feels more like a shallow elegy for the fashion industry rather than a nuanced critique of its excesses.

As we watch The Devil Wears Prada 2 and its depiction of fashion as art, untainted by commerce or human nature, let’s not forget the lessons of the original. Let’s remember that fashion is a complex, messy thing – neither purely good nor evil, but rather a reflection of both human creativity and base commercial interests.

When we gaze upon the film’s opulent settings and lavish costumes, let’s not be fooled by the false idolization on display. For in The Devil Wears Prada 2, we’re witnessing not just a film about fashion – but also a cultural phenomenon that reinforces inequality and exclusivity, elevating certain industries or pursuits to an almost sacred status without examining their underlying values or consequences.