There is something incredibly sad about watching an increasingly aging franchise take the stage and apologize for its existence. At some point, it's fine to let go.
A smarter, more thoughtful satire could skewer the hypocrisy with relish. But The Devil Wears Prada 2 is an advertisement for a lifestyle none of its viewers will ever have.
Michael is a minimum viable product. It is a cynical, committee-made replica of the real thing that refuses to treat anyone it depicts as a real person.
