She-Devil

Sandy's movie #19: The Devil Wears Prada

Watching this movie was almost a masochistic experience, albeit a strangely pleasant one. Although I've never had a job exactly like the protagonist's, I was reminded more than a few times of my toils of yore. My ridiculous NYC internship was similarly plagued by a slightly-superior bitch with a Commonwealth accent. My demanding and esteemed former female superior (take a guess who I'm talking about, Uute) had the power to make or break you with a single raise of her eyebrow. Though none of us can say we worked for Anna Wintour or Barbara Walters or Martha Stewart, I think this movie is surprisingly relatable.

Meryl Street was brilliant. Anne Hathaway... eh, I'm indifferent. She looked good. (Was she wearing a fat suit donut during the first part of the movie?) The weak links in the cast were the romantic interests-- the MEN. Their eyebrows were hideous. First, Adrien Garnier (that's his name, right?), whose weed-like hair threatened to invade every inch of his face. Then Simon Baker with his strange clown-brows that look like they were afixed (a little sloppily) with spirit gum. Ew, ew, ew. Fortunately the adorable Stanley Tucci kept the men's side of the ship afloat. But this flick rightly belonged to the ladies... hey Hollywood, keep those juicy roles coming.