The Devil Wears Prada: High Fashion Hits the West End Stage

The Devil Wears Prada is the latest in a long line of films adapted for the stage. These adaptations tend to fall into two categories: those that radically reinvent the film for the stage, such as The Producers and Billy Elliot, and those that simply transfer the film to the stage with added songs. The prime culprit here is Pretty Woman.

Unfortunately, The Devil Wears Prada falls firmly into the latter camp. It is, quite literally, beat for beat, line for line, the film—with no added perspective or irony, just some songs by Elton John.

The show has had a bit of a bumpy road on its way to the Dominion Theatre in London. Originally produced last year in Chicago as an out-of-town tryout before Broadway, it was deemed not up to standard, leading to nearly everyone involved being let go. The show was then announced to have a UK production, starting in Plymouth and now running at the Dominion, with a new director, Jerry Mitchell, who has considerable experience in adapting movie musicals for the stage, such as Kinky Boots and Legally Blonde.

It is easy to forget that Elton John has written some truly great theatre scores—and he has also had some misfires (but who hasn’t?). He did a musical adaptation of Lestat that I tried to see when it was in New York for about five minutes. Coincidentally, in the same week that this show opened, Tammy Faye closed on Broadway. Despite its success in London at the Almeida, Tammy Faye crashed on Broadway after 24 previews and 29 performances, losing all of its $25 million investment.

Aside from Billy Elliot, Elton John’s great successes include The Lion King and Aida—the latter yet to be seen here. I was hoping that his score for The Devil Wears Prada would be on a par with these, particularly in view of his recent health issues, which may mean we won’t get another theatre score from him. The music is loud, and some songs have a strong disco beat and are very recognisably “him.” However, in my opinion, it’s an okay score—not a great one—with no standout songs.

Jerry Mitchell briskly directs the production, and the sets and costumes look fantastic on the enormous Dominion stage. However, his choreography is not particularly inventive, with much of the chorus pointing enthusiastically like airline cabin crew.

Kate Weatherhead’s book appears to cut and paste large sections of dialogue from the film, adding nothing new to the story.

Miranda Priestly is played by Vanessa Williams, who received an enormous ovation upon her entrance as she rose through a trapdoor. It’s a fantastic entrance, but I suspect the applause was as much for Miranda Priestly as it was for Vanessa Williams. Her singing is excellent, and she does her best to channel Meryl Streep in delivering her many cutting put-downs.

As with many such film adaptations, the cast has to retrofit their performances into pre-existing ones. Georgie Buckley, making her debut as Andy (played by Anne Hathaway in the film), charts the transformation from duckling to swan with some powerhouse vocals.

Andi Di Bartolomeo steps into Emily Blunt’s stilettos as Emily, using her English accent, which oddly shifts to American halfway through her songs. Nevertheless, she delivers them well.

Matt Henry plays Nigel (originally Stanley Tucci in the film) but fails to make much of an impression. He lacks the energy and precise comic timing needed to make his lines truly land, nor does he achieve the pathos of his cinematic counterpart.

The two competing boyfriends, Nate and Christian, are played by Rhys Whitfield and James Darch. Unfortunately, they struggle to make much of an impact in their supporting roles, not helped by the fact that they look very similar—a mistake the film avoided.

If you love the film, and clearly many people do, you’re likely to have a good time. Just don’t expect anything new.

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