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Javier Muñoz and the cast/Photo: Joan Marques
At the beginning of the first act of “The Devil Wears Prada, The Musical,” Andy, a determinedly self-important recent college graduate, is about to become a personal assistant to Miranda Keesley (a thin cover of Anna Wintour in Vogue). Miranda’s cookie-cutter idealism: “When democracy is at stake, who has time to carry a handbag?” It includes the line in a deliciously wicked monologue.
That’s the controversy at the soul of the musical, now in its pre-Broadway world premiere at the Nederlander Theater, which is how to improvise a story. in order to From the early 2000s to today, among other things, toxic bosses are frowned upon and fashion is more inclusive. Fortunately, the fixes aren’t overdone – a handful of contemporary slang is thrown in, and Miranda brings down Andy’s vigilance through wordplay, not worldview. More notable is that Andi is now black, and Nigel’s sexuality is open rather than implied—“I’m not your gay fairy godmother,” he tells Andi, before she transforms into a gay fairy godmother. On a more poignant note, Nigel, played by Javier Mun?oz, is now happily married and in “Last Seen,” sings the story of how fashion saved him as a young gay kid bullied in Kalamazoo.
It’s one of the better songs but alas, “The Devil Wears Prada” is mired in theatrical purgatory. Ironically, Elton John and Shayna Taub’s music is memorable, but for any musical problem, the creator’s iconic status is a big deal when it launches expectations into the stratosphere. Most of the hard-hitting tunes, like “The Devil Wears Prada,” which closes the first act with a spectacular ballad based on the Met Gala, are EDM-driven, which is all for the fashion show, but not exactly the stuff. show-tune singalongs. Or, I’m afraid, the show-tuny might hit “dress your way.”
Photo: Joan Markus
The book is more problematic than the musical, with issues written from the original novel. This material lends itself more than ever to the mockery of the culture of vanity presented in fashion. The offices of Runway magazine burst through director Anna Shapiro’s vision, a timeless fashion show, with art and color and energy. But the story finds itself in a maudlin moral tale of Andy and her friends, hardworking and struggling but bleak, reinforcing the tone of the production design by setting their scenes in the dark and taking care of them in a pool hall or on a patio. Apartment, songs that sink as soon as they are sung.
I’ve always been frustrated by the feminist subtext, or lack thereof, in this story. Miranda is a brilliant boss, a smart and intelligent icon; She torments her children below but is in pursuit of excellence; She will do whatever it takes to survive in a world that conspires against her. So Andy, whose character has been on a journey of professional development up until this point, none of it is true when Miranda goes back to what she thinks is her “real” self. As Andy says before the story suddenly collapses, Miranda is a “force of nature” and deserves respect. Such a man would be the master of the universe, but we must see Miranda as Cruella de Vil.
The novel and the movie, despite the problems with the story, were very popular and this musical may follow suit. A lot works well here, starting with the manual. Former Steppenwolf artistic director Anna Shapiro (Tony winner for “August: Osage County”) may be helming her musical debut, but her experience and acumen as a director keep that a secret. The show is full of wit.
Christine Jones and Brett Banakis’ production design, from simple photo props and full-frame slides to the transition from the New York Bridge to the Eiffel Tower, is stunning, and the choreography (James Also) and costume design (Arianne Phillips) bring the audience to the front row of the best fashion show ever. It transports.
Taylor Iman Jones puts as much heart into Andy as anyone can. Beth Phil manages to turn Miranda into a three-dimensional character despite what’s on the page.
In fact, I could see Miranda and Nigel saying their lines all night. If witchcraft has lost its place in the modern world, call me old-fashioned, I guess.
At the James M. Nederland Theater 24 West Randolph through August 21. Tickets at BroadwayinChicago.com
Taylor Iman Jones and the cast/Photo: Joan Markus
Megan Masako Haley and Taylor Eman Jones/Photo: Joan Markus
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