The devil wears Primark: is the romcom reporter about to get the sack?

Glamour? Money? Hope? They’re so last season. With fashion magazines on their knees, where does that leave The Devil Wears Prada 2 – and its famously relatable heroine? Runway magazine is collapsing. Miranda is eating in the cafeteria and flying economy. Andy is the new features editor. Emily is dating a billionaire. Somebody dies. Amelia Dimoldenberg makes a cameo. But the one unexpected detail in The Devil Wears Prada 2 that I can’t stop thinking about is this: Andy worries that she’ll never be in a position to unfreeze her eggs. “Left New York for 15 years, not married – never found the right person, and my kids are at a doctor’s office on 85th,” she breezily reports to Emily when they reunite after 20 years. “They’re eggs,” she clarifies, adding that she is excited to have children. And in that moment, I couldn’t help but wonder: was the woman who once had the job “a million girls would kill for” always this relatable? Continue reading... from Film | The Guardian https://ift.tt/...

The Surfer review – beach bum Nic Cage surfs a high tide of toxic masculinity

An office drone must suffer the machismo of an Australian coastal town in this barmy, low-budget thriller about a would-be wave-chaser

Here is a gloriously demented B-movie thriller about a middle-aged man who wants to ride a big wave and the grinning local bullies who regard the beach as home soil. “Don’t live here, don’t surf here,” they shout at any luckless tourist who dares to visit picturesque Lunar Bay on Australia’s south-western coast, where the land is heavy with heat and colour. Tempers are fraying; it’s a hundred degrees in the shade. The picture crash-lands at the Cannes film festival like a wild-eyed, brawling drunk.

The middle-aged man is unnamed, so let’s call him Nic Cage. Lorcan Finnegan’s film, after all, is as much about Cage – his image, his career history, his acting pyrotechnics – as it is about surfing or the illusory concept of home. The Surfer sets the star up as a man on the edge – a sad-sack office drone who desperately wants to belong – and then shoves him unceremoniously clear over the cliff-edge. Before long, our hero is living out of his car in the parking lot near the dunes, drinking from puddles, foraging for food from bins, and scheming all the while to make his way down to the shore.

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