Novel Summary

There are two storylines in "The Devil Wears Prada," a sparkly, witty and frequently funny film loosely based upon Lauren Weisberger's year working as an assistant at Vogue magazine.

The first storyline is utterly brilliant, perhaps mainly because it features an utterly brilliant performance by Meryl Streep. Streep so convincingly becomes Miranda Priestly, the god-like editor of "Runway" magazine, that when Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) somewhat unknowingly stumbles upon her altar the events that unfold are cruel, hilarious, insightful, scary, damn scary and constantly, amazingly real. This first storyline is brilliant because it takes the audience inside the very real world of the cutthroat, ruthless and frighteningly fluid nature of the fashion industry and shows us its strengths, weaknesses, moral ambiguities and, ultimately, its twisted moral righteousness. We see the psychology behind a world where people change as quickly as fashions, and where selling one's soul is practically imperative for survival.

In this storyline, we are introduced to Andy, a naive, rather fashionless but intelligent young woman just graduated from Northwestern University with grand visions of a life in journalism. When she arrives at "Runway," it is clear, fantastically clear, that she is out of her element. Her initial encounter with Miranda's first assistant (deliciously played by an appropriately smarmy Emily Blunt), is one of uninvested condescension. It is as if this young assistant has learned the necessary routines for survival, but isn't particularly invested in them.

From her first moments onscreen, Meryl Streep literally exudes a devilish aura. Yet, much like the "Devil" on which she is based, Streep's Miranda is infinitely watchable, enticing, seductive and nearly impossible to resist. Streep's Miranda is worse than the "boss from Hell"...she's that "boss from Hell" who is such a master that you find it impossible to stop working for them.

Streep, who will most certainly garner a Golden Globe nomination from this performance, is frightening here because she didn't take the easy road to her portrayal of Miranda. The easy road, as somewhat more portrayed in Weisberger's novel, would have been a shouting, whining, hypercritical boss who openly and viciously attacks. These kinds of bosses certainly exist (Weisberger's boss is rumored to have been this way), however, the truly frightening boss is different.

Streep's Miranda possesses a sort of frightening righteousness befitting the most evil of cult leaders. Streep's Miranda controls rather than attacks, speaks in hushed, seductive tones rather than shouts, and lays out her expectations so clearly that her employees find it impossible to argue with them. Quite simply, Streep's Miranda is nothing short of comic brilliance. It is important to note that the cinematic version of Miranda is a slightly more humanized, revealing portrait than the literary Miranda. That Streep reveals this humanity without losing her evil is, perhaps, the greatest testimony to the brilliance of Streep's performance.

Streep is surrounded by equally righteous Andy, her assistants, and her lead designer (a very nearly scene-stealing Stanley Tucci). Perhaps the only weakness in this storyline lies in the presence of Christian Thompson (Simon Baker), a "seductive" writer who serves to counter Andy's plainer, supposedly more morally grounded boyfriend. While Baker is fine here, the character feels awkwardly out of place. The resolution, ultimately, is unsatisfying and only minimally addressed.

This first storyline works brilliantly because it focuses on Andy's struggle