CHICAGO — “You’ve got no style or sense of fashion,” viciously observes the fictional magazine editor Miranda Priestly in “The Devil Wears Prada.”She’s dressing down her dowdy prospective new assistant, Andy, but that same harsh criticism should be lobbed at the bargain-bin new musical adaptation of the film and Lauren Weisberger’s novel that opened Sunday night in Chicago.2 hours and 30 minutes with one intermission.
At the James L. Nederlander Theater in Chicago.Call the Fashion Police. The alarmingly un-fun and sluggish show with a score by Elton John and Shaina Taub is a dud about duds, and the worst screen-to-stage move in recent memory.Considering the mind-numbing movie properties that have been cynically schlepped to Broadway the past few seasons, that’s an achievement worthy of the Guinness Book.Every song is lousy, and there is nothing here worth fixing.No convincing artistic effort has been made to reinterpret the film and book into something new that makes logical and compelling sense onstage.
Just about every plot point is identical to the 2006 film that was slick, sexy and satisfying and earned Meryl Streep a well-deserved Oscar nomination for Best Actress.But “Prada” should have been reworked completely.
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