I'm sure there are things Meryl Streep
can't do. I doubt she'd be a good pipefitter, and I'm pretty certain she'd be a flop as an aviation mechanic. But when it comes to acting, Streep remains the gold standard, the American actress against whom all others are currently measured. Take her role in the new "click flick"
The Devil Wears Prada. Other veteran actresses could have played the part of Miranda Priestly, chief editor (and Boss from Hell) of the fictitious fashion magazine
Runway. Glenn Close would have been a good choice (though she's played something similar to this, namely Cruella de Vil in
101 Dalmatians, 1996). Streep's decision to dye her hair white for
Prada definitely gives her a Cruella-like feel. Sharon Stone could have pulled off the fashion, but not the nuances. And Anjelica Huston might have triumphed in the role (though she, too, has played the white-haired villainess before in Stephen Frear's brilliant 1990 film
The Grifters). Though we'll never know who else could have pulled off the role of "rhymes-with-witch" Miranda Priestly, we
do know that Streep, who's so scarily effective, is single-handedly worth the price of admission. The movie's protagonist may be fresh-faced upstart Anne Hathaway, but it's the two-faced Streep that gives
The Devil Wears Prada its bite.
Based on Lauren Weisberger's "hiss-and-tell" novel (a thinly disguised work of fiction about her days as an assistant to
Vogue fashion editor Anna Wintour),
The Devil Wears Prada focuses on the trials of Andrea Sachs (Hathaway), who comes to New York to be a serious writer but ends up as second assistant to Miranda Priestly. Clueless about fashion, she nevertheless lands the job at the fashion mag (Miranda has employed model wannabe's from the beginning and thinks that Andy's plain Jane quality might be a nice change of pace). Like all films of this kind (Small Town girl tries to make it in the Big City), Andy eventually gets a makeover (courtesy of fashion director Nigel, played with just the right amount of flair by Stanley Tucci), alienates her friends because of her long work days, and ultimately sees the light and realizes she was never meant to be in this business (though only a size 6, Andy is considered "fat" in the
Runway world). Hathaway (who made a splash in
The Princess Diaries, 2001) and turned in a solid performance as Jake Gyllenhaal's wife in last year's
Brokeback Mountain, comes into her own in
The Devil Wears Prada. Unconventionally pretty (full mouth,
widely spaced eyes and a slightly oversized nose), Hathaway is a good choice for the role; she moves effortlessly from fresh-off-the-bus Midwesterner to
image-conscious career girl trying to climb the fashion ladder. She also gets good help from Emily Blunt, who plays Miranda's first assistant (terrified of her she-devil boss, she constantly throws Andy in front of the proverbial firing squad). Blunt's character, tightly wound and high-strung, tosses off pointed barbs like a pro; you get the impression that she's a Miranda-in-Waiting. And yet all of these actors pale in comparison to Streep.
Streep is so compulsively watchable, so quietly powerful as Priestly (her voice barely raises above a whisper), that she commands the screen even when she's not on it; whenever the film lingers too long on Hathaway you find yourself hoping Streep would return. There have been hellacious bosses
on-screen before (most notably Sigourney Weaver in 1988's
Working Girl), but Streep carves out new territory. Imperious and hard, her Priestly conveys more with a raised eyebrow or a slight tilt of the head than any amount of dialogue could provide. Hathaway may be the lead of
The Devil Wears Prada, but Streep dominates it. And yet, she never overpowers her younger co-star, which is a real tribute to Streep's refined talent...and perhaps Hathaway's own likability factor.
Streep has played contentious characters before (particularly in the comedy gem
Death Becomes Her, 1992), yet her interpretation of Miranda Priestly is completely fresh. Whether she's cutting someone off with a frigid, conversation-ending "That's all," or tossing her coat across Andy's desk (like Margo Channing in the 1950 classic
All About Eve, she's the kind of woman who treats a fur coat like a poncho), Streep adds just the right amount of venom while also knowing when to pull back; what could easily have been a two-dimensional villain comes to life because of Streep's intuition on just how far to go with it. I feared the filmmakers might feel the need to "soften" Miranda just a bit to make her more accessible to filmgoers. Hats off to director David Frankel and screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna for allowing Miranda to remain an unsympathetic character. She is not, however, entirely unlikable. Late in the film Miranda, devoid of makeup, confides to Andy that her husband has left her. Watch Streep closely; down but not out, she perfectly captures the regret a woman of her position often must face when putting career ahead of family. Compare this with an earlier monologue in which she explains the fashion significance of a plain blue sweater, and you'll understand why Streep's the recipient of two Academy Awards and no fewer than thirteen Oscar nominations.
The Devil Wears Prada won't appeal to everyone (it's tailor-made, however, for women and gay men). But it's smart, witty and sophisticated in a way few modern comedies are these days. Yes, the clothes are first-rate, but credit designer Patricia Field (who was the head stylist on TV's 'Sex and the City') for letting them complement the story rather than become it. Ultimately
The Devil Wears Prada succeeds because of a bright script, Anne Hathaway's good-girl charm...and Meryl Streep's bravura performance.
The Devil has never looked so good.
Fade Out,
Darren McCullah
