I want approximately 109 minutes of my life back. Last night, I made the mistake of assenting to watch a movie that was brought over, and that movie was The Devil Wears Prada. This movie is a waste of celluloid, but I could have figured that out from simply knowing its subject matter.

Honestly, fashion? Does anyone outside of Milan, New York, Paris, or the like actually care? Yes, I know it creates employment for lots of people, but so does the illegal narcotics trade. Come to think of it, there's probably a bit of overlap between the two. Disposing of both would be, I think, a cultural benefit.

Suffice it to say that I didn't like any of the characters in the picture. Emily Blunt's character was annoying and unlikable; my only regret is that she was struck by a car and not a locomotive. She reminded me of the girl who's so desperate to be on the cutting edge and embraced by haute couture that she winds up being nothing but a reactive shell. For crying out loud, have some backbone!

Andrea Sachs is yet another one of those people I can't stand, the type of folks who have such a poor sense of self that they get swept up in enabling other people's dreams at the costs of their own, et cetera. I can't figure out if I have more sympathy for her or Emily, because although I frown upon Sachs' stomping of Emily, I'm sure the latter has done that herself. In other words, the Zhukovsky Principle: "They were ruthless people. They got what they deserved." I can state with considerable certainty that I wouldn't maintain a relationship interest with Miss Sachs for long, especially when her life is focused upon pleasing Miranda Priestly.

And here we come to the center of our discontent. I'm not a Meryl Streep fan, but I don't loathe her as I do Julia Roberts, either. So, enough about her. Miranda Priestly is the kind of individual that I don't like, the one who despite being at a pinnacle in their industry, is a miserable person. Granted, I'm certain that she has to keep a pack of wolves (represented by Jacqueline Follet?) at bay. Granted, she has made choices and sacrifices that have shaped her (despicable) character. That does not, however, justify her attitude and behavior in my opinion.

Miranda Priestly is at some level a failure if she doesn't have strength of character or sufficient courage, intelligence, what have you to impose a manageable order on her workplace. I don't get the sense that she knows this, because she is apparently happy with the way things are---who wouldn't be, with fawning sycophants in the industry worshipping you---and the only apparent costs are that she's gone through husbands only slightly slower than Elizabeth Taylor. This might be more understandable if she was Dr. Miranda Priestly, National Security Advisor par excellence, the wily bureaucrat who advances America's interests at home and abroad.¹ But, she's not.

It's not like fashion is foreign policy.

The closing sequences are similarly unsatisfying. From what I understand about the novel, the written Andrea Sachs delivers a profane tirade to Priestly over a telephone, instead of chucking said cellular telephone in a fountain. Either action is inherently unprofessional, but it may be the best that can be expected from someone who thinks New York City is something to aspire to.

I suppose the only joy that can come from this misbegotten project is that a) Andrea Sachs turns her back on the world that Miranda Priestly offers and b) Lauren Weisberger's second novel was, reportedly, a commercial flop. Perhaps we shall hear no more from this whiny, self-absorbed woman. (On the other hand, Anna Wintour maintains her place, so perhaps we will continue to hear from an imperious loser such as her.)²

I'm sure someone will ask---I hope---"If you hated the movie so, why did you write this extended piece?" The answer is "Because I thought it valuable to openly and decisively reject the values of the Priestly world, and heap scorn upon her ilk while I was at it."

Chick lit/chick cinema and I don't mix. Bring on Transformers: The Movie.

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¹ Er, Jeane Kirkpatrick, anyone?

² Of course, it could be that Wintour's great sin was failing to validate Lauren Weisberger's own life or whatever; you never can tell with these annoying Northeastern types.

Posted by: Country Pundit at 10:26 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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