FASHIONABLY LATE

In the annals of Hollywood, sequels can be successful, but most often are nothing more than cash grabs. The thinking goes, if a movie’s a hit, then why not trade on its success with yet another boasting the same DNA? And maybe a third as well.

But there’s a rarified subset, sequels that are superior to the movies that spawned them. I’m thinking of “The Empire Strikes Back,” generally considered the best of the first Star Wars trilogy. And then there’s “The Godfather, Part Two,” a shockingly good follow-up to Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Godfather” that all by itself won a Best Picture Oscar.

And now we’re taking a deep dive into “The Devil Wears Parade 2,” a cinematic achievement that almost no one could have predicted when 20th Century announced they were making a sequel to the original “Prada” from 2006. And let me just say here it’s a triumph.

Moreover, who could have predicted that the original story from 20 years ago could be even more relevant today? We’ll get to that.

Thankfully, the original cast of heavyweights is back: Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway, Stanley Tucci and Emily Blunt. (And there’s been a lot of online chat about the fact that these A-listers look astonishingly ageless.)

Prada 2 begins with Andy Sachs (Hathaway) learning her new employer, a scrappy independent newspaper called The Vanguard, is about to go under, meaning she is losing her job. At the same time, major publications like the fashion industry bible Runway of the first movie are facing hard times and the resultant budget cuts.

Then, suddenly, Andy gets an urgent message from Irv Ravitz, the CEO of Elias-Clarke, publisher of Runway and her old boss. He wants her back.

Andy is excited that she’s being offered an opportunity to return to Runway, and at the lofty position of director of creative content. She arrives at executive editor Miranda Priestly’s doorstep only to discover Priestly knows nothing about Andy’s hire.

Meanwhile, Miranda is dealing with the fallout from a nasty expose that paints Runway in a negative light, threatening the magazine’s bottom line like never before. So, she has been reduced to reaching out to major advertisers like Dior, groveling to keep their ad buys.

And who should Miranda be bowing and scraping to at Dior? It’s Emily (Blunt), her former executive assistant.

So, all at once, the original Prada cast is thrust into a story that (1) smartly echoes the first movie; and (2) opens up the plot in ways that, years ago, might have been hard to imagine. The new movie couldn’t be more timely. We now live in an age where billionaires are hoovering up legacy media properties with abandon. In real life, there are rumors that Amazon founder and billionaire Jeff Bezos is planning to buy Conde Nast, publisher of Vogue and other properties, thus adding to a portfolio that also includes The Washington Post.

(The Post acquisition, unfortunately, has turned out to be, not salvation, but a cautionary tale.)

In the movie version of this brave new world, Miranda and company are desperate to save Runway by any means possible. Then CEO Irv dies and the future of Elias-Clarke, and Runway, are very much in doubt.

Irv’s son, a tech bro with no publishing experience, let alone taste, is now running the show and hints that print is dead and long live digital media. Runway, in his mind, is an expensive dinosaur that no one in his social network cares to read.

Budgets are cut and layoffs imminent.

But this is a rom-com after all and, as in the first movie, there’s reason to hope. Made all the more possible with Streep, Hathaway, Tucci and Blunt all dancing chic-to-chic.