by Paula Gail Benson
I enjoyed watching The Devil Wears Prada when it was released in 2006. I even used the title for a Halloween party ensemble: my suit from work with a devil horn headband and a small, extremely low priced ($25) Prada bag (likely a knock off) I found at a consignment store. The Prada emblem was so small I had to explain my costume to everyone all evening.
A week ago, I had the opportunity to view the movie again. I was impressed by how quickly the story opened at the precise moment the protagonist (Andy) begins her journey. She’s just graduated from college and needs a job. No paper has offered her employment as a writer, so she becomes an intern for Runway, a sleek, high-brow fashion magazine—a subject about which she knows little.
I admired the pacing as the story unfolded: Andy’s path is strewn with pitfalls. She doesn’t understand the industry or the relevance of certain decisions. She is belittled and insulted by her demanding boss and insufferable co-worker. She finds a mentor, of sorts, in the magazine’s art director, who helps her find appropriate clothes.
Then, rather than letting all the negativity defeat her, Andy does what any admirable underdog heroine would do: she becomes determined to play the game as well or better than her opponents think her capable. She will win, despite the odds, and appear capable and carefree in getting there.
A great deal of the charm of the movie is watching Andy navigate the obstacles as she becomes more fashion savvy. Of course, her new knowledge and single-mindedness to prove herself as worthy to the magazine’s fiendish editor ends up ostracizing her from her boyfriend and social circle. Ultimately, as she sees her mentor’s loyalty to the editor repaid by deception and betrayal, she realizes that she needs to reevaluate her priorities.
In the end, she leaves Runway, reconciles with her boyfriend, and has a successful interview for a new job. Her future employer receives a recommendation from Runway’s editor describing Andy as “her biggest disappointment” but saying the employer would be an idiot not to hire Andy.
The story still captivates me, not only for its message, but also its structure. I want to read Lauren Weisberger’s 2003 debut novel upon which it was based to see how closely the book was followed and what changes were made in the screenplay.
I also want to watch the movie again, to learn more about how it crafted and sustained the seemingly effortless pace. I hope that’s a skill I can apply to my own work.
Has the second viewing of a movie or reading of a book ever made you want to understand more about how it was structured? Has studying a favorite movie or book led you to greater insight about writing?
