World premiere 'Prada' bedeviled by details big and small

Among the greatest joys reviewing Chicagoland musical theatre for the past decade-or-so are having figurative front-row seats to pre-Broadway productions developing in the City of Big Shoulders before their transfer to the Great White Way. A second (really, the first) is getting to know the immensely talented, compassionate, lovingly supportive cadre of artists who make up the Chicagoland theatre community.

This reviewer’s positive takes on 2014’s Amazing Grace, 2015’s Beaches, and last fall’s Paradise Square predicted at least one Sound of Music among them. But in a New York state of mind, Grace flopped; Beaches is still in purgatory; Square lost all but one of its Tony nominations and racked up legal trouble, to boot.

At least I got SIXright.

With that in mind, take comments here regarding the world premiere of The Devil Wears Prada with a grain of salt.

As one might guess, Prada is based on Lauren Weisberger's best-selling 2003 roman à clef  on her experience at Vogue; the satanic (and, now , iconic) Miranda Priestly stands in for editor-in-chief Anna Wintour. (Weisberger becomes Andy Sachs.) The musical’s book by Kate Wetherhead reads very true to the beloved 2006 film starring Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway. It's punctuated by an Elton John score, (lyrics by Shaina Taub), directed by Anna D. Shapiro and choreographed by James Alsop.

Producers tout a Prada for today with the message of “finding your place and discovering what matters most.” But the story's ultimate dilemma—whether the bottom-rung Andy can endure boss Priestly’s narcissistic behavior—rings differently now than it did in 2006. Faced with job expectations no boundary-setting twentysomething would (rightfully) tolerate today, and certainly armed with more resources and information than back then, it's unlikely Andy's friends and allies would force her to constantly coddle Miranda’s insane ego at the expense of her sense of self. Paying one’s dues shouldn't be code for enduring bullying behavior. Instead, the musical chides Andy’s “youthful idealism” until the very end.

Setting aside the uneven messaging, the musical itself is unevenly balanced. The first act opened slowly, dragged, included nothing from Sir Elton that’s particularly memorable, and so unlike the devil, it felt timid. On the flipside, Act Two is spectacular: several songs are terrific, allowing, especially, Andy (Taylor Iman Jones) and lead designer Nigel Owens (Javier Muñoz) to show off. Beth Leavel as Miranda Priestly is poutingly terrific, as is Megan Masako Haley as fashion-obsessed Emily Charlton. And kudos to this production’s visual designers: Arianne Phillips (magnificent costumes) and Christine Jones and Brett Banakis (scenic and media—particularly one splendid Eiffel Tower)

Needing some more work before its move to New York, the ultimate fate of The Devil Wears Prada is in capably professional hands along with the opinions and depth of pockets containing expendable entertainment dollars. But what should not be lost in consideration of this production is the biggest stage opportunity it’s giving to two longtime members of Chicagoland’s musical theatre community referenced in paragraph one. Break legs, Marya Grandy and Sawyer Smith. See you both on Broadway.

The Devil Wears Prada runs through through August 21 at the James M. Nederlander Theatre 24 W Randolph Street, Chicago. For more information and tickets, please click here.

Photo by Joan Marcus.