Photo: by Aeon / GC Images
Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada 2 below.
The last time we saw Andy Sachs, she had just released herself from the clutches of a job “a million girls would kill for” and landed her dream gig at a very serious fake newspaper. She was also in her 20s and newly single, having recently split up with her boyfriend, who made a mean grilled cheese but wasn’t particularly supportive of her career ambitions. In The Devil Wears Prada 2, Andy’s back at Runway, but her romantic life has retreated much further into the set dressing. Early in the movie, she tells her best friend, Lily (Tracie Thoms reprising her role from the first film), she simply never found the right person after years of traveling the country as a dogged journalist. In that time, she did sleep with a co-worker or two (just the “hot, powerless ones”) and froze her eggs.
Enter Peter (Patrick Brammall), an approachably handsome Australian contractor whom Andy meets while looking for a new apartment. The two have a banter-y meet-cute, Lily jumps in to do some protective recon, and Peter — who reveals himself to be divorced with no children — goes on a date with Andy. Peter is quickly established as a far more supportive prospective partner than Nate from the first movie — by date No. 1, he’s already read a bunch of Andy’s stories and thought her series on the Federal Reserve was “sexy.” What more could a lady journalist want in a man?
We don’t learn much about Peter in the movie beyond that he’s very happy to play the role of dutiful boyfriend. Miranda, too — who was in the middle of divorcing a man who resented her hectic work schedule in the first film — seems to have found happiness in the arms of a kind, if boring and outwardly two-dimensional, husband. (Hers is British and a violinist played by Sir Kenneth Branagh.)
As nice as it is to see boyfriends largely relegated to the sidelines this time around, the choice to include these romantic B-plots feels more like an overcorrection to Nate’s clinginess than a feminist fantasy. Is it so hard to conceive of a happy ending for two career-driven women with well-rounded social lives that doesn’t involve a significant other? The two minutes Peter spends debating whether he should say “hi” to Hugh Jackman at a Runway party would have been better used hearing more about Andy’s fashion investigations or gallivanting around Milan with Stanley Tucci. In a crowded, cameo-packed movie, Andy’s love life feels like filler. At least he didn’t spend all his savings on grilled cheese — or a cheese toastie, as he’d probably put it. Did he mention he’s Australian?
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