Still no story 2

So here's a great example of how attempts at storytelling (and, likely, test screenings) have evolved in the past 20 years. The Devil Wears Prada was a film based on a hit piece novel that wasn't interested in anything except presenting its subject, a thinly-disguised facsimile of Vogue editor Anna Wintour, as a bestial overlord. A limp Hollywood nod toward feminism in 2006 was tacked on at the end. As I asserted in my last post, there wasn't really a story to be told there as that wasn't the point of the novel in the first place. Two decades later, the same writer and director team (Aline Brosh McKenna and David Frankel, respectively) had either fully absorbed the transition in attitudes of criticism in the modern era or realized that without even the skeletal framework of the book they really had nothing to build a film around. Consequently, The Devil Wears Prada 2 is constructed of the most obvious and turgid of plots imaginable and it makes the film not only as predictable as the original, but also lacking even the mild moments of shock humor that emerged then. If the original was a hit piece, the sequel is about as inoffensive as anything could be and still be using the word "devil" in its title.

Word on the street is that neither Meryl Streep, reprising her role as the tyrannical editor of fictional fashion magazine Runway, Miranda Priestly, nor Anne Hathaway, likewise returning as Andy Sachs, journalist stooping once again into the world of haute couture, wanted to do a sequel. What had been said in the first film had been said and that story was finished, which is always a perspective I can find myself in alliance with. What usually draws performers back in is an attempt to say something new and/or different about their characters. That was not the case here in any way so what may have led them back is not only a pile of money but also a lack of other decent projects at the moment, if not both. But that's all speculation on things I don't know about. What I do know is that the story as presented is really just the same plot from the first film, without any of the shock value and instead attempting to fill out the stick-figure characters of that film and make Priestly more human (thus, distracting from the title as anything other than a marketing slogan) and Sachs able to stand on her own, rather than solely within the shadow of Priestly. What it doesn't do is make either of them more interesting or, once again, give any justification to their characters' regular assertions that the fashion world is crucial to the existence of modern society and thus attempt to justify Priestly's absurd behavior. That world is still shallow and self-important, which is exemplified once again by multiple sequences of characters parading past or with clothing while not advancing anything even resembling a story. The scene of Priestly, Sachs and likewise-returning Stanley Tucci as Nigel Kipling entering Milan was less a scene than a reproduction of the post-breakfast walk in Reservoir Dogs (Here's our stars, walkin', lookin' cool) except that the latter at least served as the opening credit roll.

And, again, with the plot being as predictable and formulaic as it is (Sachs once again working for Runway, Priestly once again mistreating everyone while trying to keep the magazine relevant in the world of the Internet, Kipling once again being the backstop to everyone and often to his own detriment while mild crises ensue, etc.), what it can't depart from in terms of the formula established by the first one is that a) money rules the fashion world in the same way that it does most of everything else and b) much of modern society is beholden to the largesse of ridiculously wealthy people who occasionally deign to look in on the lives of the peasants. In fact, one of the opening statements of this film is how journalism has been dying because good stories (like, say, films other than this one) aren't as important as advertising clicks. Runway finds itself in the same scenario which is a laudable statement to make. The main problem is that said scenario doesn't find resolution (aka Hollywood happy ending) in the hands of the main characters of this play, but instead the largesse of yet another billionaire. What it's saying is that we've basically returned to the 18th and 19th centuries: if you're an artist, you either find an agreeable and very wealthy patron or you're out of luck because those masses can't save you (and usually won't, anyway.) Somehow this message is delivered at the end of the film as if it's a good thing, since said wealthy patron isn't an idiot Tech Bro but instead a reasonable and intelligent woman. But that still means that culture and, thus, society in the perspective of the fashion world is completely dependent upon the rich to sustain it. That's a reality that we're all living with now and it's a message that should make everyone sigh in frustration, rather than applaud for the fact that dragon lady Priestly and somehow-still-crusading journalist Sachs have won the day at the end.

I have a hard time believing that McKenna's script was written with that in mind, which is probably just another indicator that it wasn't really written to deliver a message or tell a story, but just to provide an opening to reuse the scaffolding of the first film. Just as Sachs and her circle of friends said in the first film and repeated here: Ya gotta pay the rent, so... To Hathaway's credit, her performance here shows the maturity of the last 20 years and is a significant improvement over that first effort. But the rest of them are as one-note in this film as they were in the first and even more characters are added in to give their  own contributions to parts and lives that don't seem to serve much purpose; not least Kenneth Branagh, who plays Priestly's husband who at least doesn't serve as part of the excuse for her attitude (i.e. no one would think twice about her acting that way if she was a man) but is otherwise the complete waste of one of the better actors (and directors) of the modern era. Similarly, Patrick Brammall is the boyfriend whom Andy once again feels guilty about abandoning when there's even less reason for that role to exist, since this story isn't about her supposedly ignoring her principles to make money but embracing them to do the same thing. And Emily Blunt once again serves as the snooty foil, this time not just for Andy but for everyone, but still lacks the humor that would have made her character somewhat interesting.

So, yeah, still not my thing. It was worth the time to hang out with some new friends and talk films, though, so that's something. On that note, as you've noticed, things have been sparse around here in recent times, not least because we abandoned our Michigan Theater membership a year ago and, thus, haven't seen a whole lot of new things. So I'm going to return to some previous material in the near future (Back to the Bat, as it were) and we are at least seeing The Odyssey tomorrow, so there will be that. Hopefully the lack of material hasn't lost the few of you who still sometimes pay attention.