"The Devil Wears Prada": Why This Film Is Stronger Today Than It Was 20 Years Ago

Where Do Cult Films Come From?

In 2006, the studio didn’t bet big on the project. The budget was modest. The genre was a “chick flick,” with all the expectations that entailed regarding the audience and box office receipts. Marketing was aimed at a specific demographic: young women interested in fashion and city life. Other viewers were considered a nice bonus, but not the target audience.

What happened next is well known. The film grossed nearly $327 million at the global box office on a budget of about $35 million. It became so deeply embedded in pop culture that certain scenes and lines became memes in their own right long before the word “meme” took on its current meaning. It inspired an entire generation of young people to dream of working in the media industry—at a time when glossy print magazines still seemed like a permanent fixture. And it continues to serve as a reference point for discussions about toxic work environments, women’s leadership, and the cost of professional success—two decades after its premiere.

Cult status isn't something you plan for. It's made up of several elements that rarely come together in a single film at the same time. In the case of *The Devil*, they did.

Miranda Priestly as a Phenomenon

Let's start with the obvious: without Meryl Streep, this conversation wouldn't even be happening. Not because the other actors are bad—Emily Blunt, Stanley Tucci, and Anne Hathaway all give flawless performances. But Streep does something that goes beyond ordinary acting: she creates an archetype.

Miranda Priestly isn’t a villain in the classic sense. She doesn’t deliver villainous monologues, she isn’t overtly cruel, and there are no scenes where she laughs at other people’s suffering. She simply moves forward—with absolute confidence in her right to demand the impossible, and with a complete lack of interest in what happens to the people who happen to cross her path. A quiet voice. Impeccable composure. The gaze of someone who long ago stopped noticing that others might grow weary.

This is scarier than any caricature. Because this type of leader actually exists—and most people who saw the movie recognized him. Not from books or other movies. From their own experience.

Strip received Oscar and Golden Globe nominations for this role. But the real prize is something else: Miranda Priestly has become a cultural icon. When people talk about a tyrannical boss, they say, “a real Miranda Priestly.” When describing a toxic corporate culture, they quote her lines. This is a level that only a handful of on-screen characters have ever reached in the entire history of cinema.

During the press tour for the sequel, Streep said she was struck by just how universal this story turned out to be. The film has been received just as warmly in Mexico City and Tokyo as it has in Seoul and Shanghai. “It’s a story that transcends cultures,” she says. And it’s true: authority that demands complete obedience exists in any cultural context. It just takes on different forms.

Toxicity as a Mirror

One of the film’s main paradoxes is that it simultaneously glamorizes and exposes the horrors of the fashion industry. The Runway editorial office looks like a place you’d want to be: beautiful people, expensive things, a sense of being part of something significant. And at the same time, it looks like a system that methodically destroys everything human in those who end up there.

The filmmakers don't take sides. They neither condemn nor praise the industry. They simply show how it works—and let the viewer decide for themselves whether it's worth it. It is precisely this honesty that keeps the film alive twenty years later.

One scene in particular deserves special mention today. Miranda calls Anne Hathaway’s character a “chubby girl.” By any standard, this is absurd: the character is clearly not that way. But in the world of high fashion in the early 2000s, she was indeed considered to be a non-standard size. This detail is not a historical anomaly. According to available reports, similar remarks are still made behind closed doors in fashion editorial offices and at influencer photo shoots. The film doesn’t archive the past—it captures the present, which has simply shifted to other formats.

A question that never goes out of style

At the heart of Andy Sachs’s story lies a conflict that knows no expiration date. A young man with principles and ambitions finds himself in an environment that gradually forces him to abandon those principles. At first, it seems like a compromise. Then—a necessity. Eventually, it becomes clear that compromise has long since become the norm, and the person staring back from the mirror is different from the one who arrived in this city with a suitcase and a set of plans.

This isn’t a story about a fashion magazine. It’s a story about any industry, any corporation, any career that demands a price—and doesn’t always honestly warn you exactly what that price will be. In 2006, it read like a story about a specific environment. In 2026, it reads like a universal parable about professional life in general.

That is precisely why the film doesn’t feel like a dated artifact when you watch it again. The backdrop has changed: glossy print media has given way to digital media, and magazine editors have been replaced by influencers with audiences in the millions. But the dynamics of power, the mechanisms of pressure, and the nature of choice remain the same.

The "queer dimension" that people are talking about openly

Over the past twenty years, *The Devil Wears Prada* has become an important cultural phenomenon for the LGBTQ+ community—and that’s no coincidence. The world of high fashion has historically been so closely intertwined with queer culture that one is simply unimaginable without the other. The film portrayed this honestly—not in a declarative way or as a social gesture, but organically, through the characters, the atmosphere, and the very spirit of the story.

Strip is very clear about this: when creating the sequel, the creators kept the LGBTQ+ audience front and center. “Would we even have this trend without that influence?” she asks rhetorically in an interview. The answer is obvious. And the fact that the sequel is being released with this awareness as its starting point—rather than as a belated concession to the agenda—speaks volumes.

Why Now Is the Right Time

The sequel is set to be released on April 29 in most European countries and on May 1 in the U.S. and the U.K. The entire original cast is back: Streep, Hathaway, Blunt, and Tucci. Twenty years between installments is a long time for any franchise. But that very span of time works in the film’s favor, rather than against it. Streep says that over the years, the actors have “lived a whole lifetime”—and she calls the opportunity to return to their characters with that life experience a rare chance.

Meanwhile, the original continues to make its mark. It is revisited, quoted, and used as a starting point in discussions about careers, power, and self-determination. This is the hallmark of a true classic—not the sanctity of a museum piece, but active participation in current conversations.

Twenty years ago, the studio didn't expect much from this movie. Today, it's returning to theaters with a sequel, a global press tour, and the status of a cultural phenomenon. Some things only get better with age.