Elton John’s irresistible songs are the highlight of this big, bold, metaphorically shoulder-padded musical, which also features a star turn from Vanessa Williams as Miranda Priestly, wintry supremo of Manhattan fashion magazine Runway.
The tunes, from disco to power pop to Broadway homage, are draped in witty lyrics by Shaina Taub and Mark Sonnenblick, and belted out by a glamazon cast in a ritzy, glitzy production by director and choreographer Jerry Mitchell that conquers the cavernous Dominion.
The plot has been adapted by Kate Wetherhead from Lauren Weisberger’s 2003 book and the 2006 film that made stars of Anne Hathaway and Emily Blunt, and featured Meryl Streep’s iconic Miranda.
Georgie Buckland makes an assertive West End debut as heroine Andy Sachs, though it can feel harder to empathise with this dowdy wannabe writer who reluctantly becomes Miranda’s assistant, embraces the bitchiness and backstabbing of the fashion world indecently quickly, and exhibits terrible romantic judgment.
The role of Nigel, the sardonic gay stylist who becomes Andy’s ally, is undersold in Matt Henry’s diffident interpretation. He does, though, get a splendid number, Seen, which makes a stronger case for fashion as an inspiring force than Miranda’s famous “cerulean sweater” speech. As in the film, the breakout role is that of Emily, Miranda’s tight-wound, sardonic and starving British primary acolyte.
Amy Di Bartolomeo (formerly one of the queens in Six) goes at the role like a racehorse out of the gate. Her big number, Bon Voyage, is typical of the knowing humour of Mitchell’s production: a homage to Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend, with Emily in a wheelchair, surrounded by blue-scrubbed male nurses, having run into traffic after being demoted at Miranda’s annual ball. (Buckland’s Andy, initially given a makeover that makes her look like Lorraine Kelly, sashays into this event in a clingy sheath dress like Pippa Middleton stealing her sister’s wedding.)
Let’s talk about the frocks. The bulk of the best looks go to Williams’s Miranda, naturally: a gorgeous panoply of outfits from embroidered trouser suits to fishtail ballgowns in shimmering scarlet sequins. Williams sings with withering power, sports a scoop of metallic brass hair that resembles Brittania’s helmet and sets the physical tone with her power poses: everyone else emulates her cocked hip and canted ankles, even in the big dance numbers.
For the OTT ball scene costumier Gregg Barnes creates a series of ravishing, demonic creations that distract from the fact that the accompanying title song is a rare misfire (partly because only “nada” rhymes with “Prada”). For a keystone fashion show, he puts the cast in gauzy chiffon, spotlit around the auditorium. Elsewhere designer Tim Hatley’s set leans heavily on the New York skyline and a series of feature walls.
The show is now a period piece about the 2000s, before Karl Lagerfeld’s death and John Galliano’s disgrace: many of the real-life inspirations for the main characters have moved on or retired and magazine journalism ain’t what it was. The best numbers – House of Miranda, How to Survive at Runway, Who’s She? – celebrate a time when fashion and New York were both in their pomp and you could never be too rich, too thin or too demanding. Absolutely fabulous.
Dominion Theatre, to October 2025; devilwearspradamusical.com
