CINEMA Twenty years after the first film, The Devil Wears Prada 2 revives the myth of Miranda Priestly. This late sequel invites us to question what time does to films, to their characters, and to the world that made them possible.
Better late than never
In cinema, if the sequel is the continuation of a story, it is also a way to measure time. Between a first film and its return, things have changed: the actors, the audience, the industry, the techniques, and then the society in which the work is received. Where are we ten, twenty, or thirty years later? Is it the same film being extended or an era being revived? From an economic point of view, the sequel responds to a contemporary dynamic, namely that of risk reduction: in an industry where budgets explode and public attention is fragmented, a known title reassures, it functions as accumulated symbolic capital. Revisiting an old film exploits an already existing collective memory.
However, not everything is cynical. The sequel reveals that cinema is an art of recognition: it involves discoveries, but also reunions. The cinema hall or platform are like meeting places with a part of oneself. The late sequel reflects the aging of audiences: yesterday’s children are adults, perhaps parents, or even “cultural decision-makers”; they pass on their references like others pass on songs, books, or more broadly an education. In addition to speaking to fans, these films organize a dialogue between generations. The first film belongs to the past, while the second questions what that memory is still worth. There is a modern form of nostalgia: wanting to move forward, with the past holding the hand. And these returns are not neutral. Remaking or extending a work is to confront it with the sensitivities of the present. A sequel can confirm the old order by offering the comfort of “it was better before.” But…
