The real world has caught up with Runway. Apparently. Just don’t tell The Devil Wears Prada 2, the twenty years gestated, gloss-fest sequel to David Frankel’s well-remembered original. Budget cuts may be à la mode in a breezy script by returning writer Aline Brosh McKenna but, when the top to bottom of Frankel’s (also back) screen looks every bit the $100m budget, it’s a somewhat shallow punch. Nostalgia can, after all, prove poisoned chalice. Sure, there’s a lot to like here but, make no mistake, the film wants heavily for its predecessor’s zippier outsider energy.
Given the success of the Paddington films – now three in, not to mention a West End musical – it was only a matter of time before other staples of the British children’s library would wind their way to the big screen. Sure enough, here is Enid Blyton’s The Magic Faraway Tree, lovingly modernised by Ben Gregor and Simon Farnaby. That the latter co-wrote and conceived the second – and best – Paddington film tells you all you need to know. His are delightfully quirky but ultimately safe pair of hands.
It’s not fealty that’s bringing the crowds to Emerald Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights,” a film that often feels less like an Emily Brontë adaptation than organic entity in and of its own right. No, these are bathtub sperm and FOMO fuelled walk ups, attracted to Fennell’s unique brand of zeitgeist chic and conservative baiting. To this end, the film starts strong, with heavy breathing giving way to a memorably erotic hanging. The corpse gets an erection and Vicki Pepperdine plays an aroused nun. Mercy, me. Where Fennell’s Heights will fell students of literature, however, there is ample here for those of film to digest. Much dazzles.
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