Charlize Theron’s ‘Apex’ – Why Wasn’t This in Theaters?

Many Netflix originals feel like made-for-streaming content.

That’s not remotely a compliment.

Yes, they have recognizable stars and movie-level budgets. They still leave something to be desired, and that’s being kind. Even the better titles, like “Nonnas,” leave a pleasant aftertaste more than must-see energy.

And then there’s “Apex.”

The thriller stars Charlize Theron as Sasha, an adventure junkie working through a major personal loss. So she sets out to explore the Australian Outback, eager to spend time alone with her thoughts.

It might be good for her soul, and perhaps her sanity. She gets some unexpected company from randy locals eager to get to know her better.

Yech.

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Another stranger seems more promising. He’s clean cut and refined, and he offers some neighborly advice sans the creep factor.

He’s played by Taron Egerton, all buff and bald and ready to embrace the outdoors in every way possible. He’s the kind of guy you want when you’re alone in the big, bad Australian Outback, right?

Right?

A quick peek at the trailer suggests otherwise.

Director Baltasar Kormákur (“Beast”) opens the film with bravura shots of Sasha and her climbing partner defying gravity with every inch up a formidable mountain. The camera work is unsettling, making even pedestrian moves feel dangerous.

Deadly, even.

Kormákur’s camera moves are equally slick later in the film, as Sasha navigates an unforgiving river and scrambles over the challenging terrain. This film feels like a Jillian Michaels’ workout.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Theron doesn’t have much to work with – the storyline is purposely lean and mean. She still evokes a woman at an emotional crossroads, and one whose physicality could be her only way out of certain doom.

No Girlbossery here, just a middle-aged survivor who knows how far to push her body. The Oscar winner is increasingly adept at these kinds of physical roles, from “Atomic Blonde” to this punishing affair.

Egerton has never been so lethal, and his character carries a secret that makes the cat-and-mouse storyline even more frightening.

Chomp, chomp.

“Apex” offers a few wrinkles in its third act, another sign that everyone involved acknowledged the formula at work but refused to connect the usual dots. That results in some wild jolts and a finale that proves even more satisfying than we hoped.

Now, why did this movie skip theaters again? Netflix and chilling should be “Apex’s” second act, not its first.

HiT or Miss: “Apex” doesn’t reinvent the “woman stalked in the wilderness” template. It’s just a first-class variation on it.

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‘Caveman’s Valentine’: Samuel L. Jackson’s Best Performance?

Kasi Lemmons’ “The Caveman’s Valentine” (2001) stars Samuel L. Jackson as a homeless man in New York named Romulus Ledbetter, a former Julliard pianist whose schizophrenia destroyed his once promising career.

Romulus maintains his intellect and ability to play the piano beautifully, but he’s also prone to outbursts, particularly towards the Chrysler Building, where he believes a man named Stuyvesant is blasting invisible rays at the population. There’s more – Romulus lives in a cave and explains to anyone who will listen that he has moth-like creatures living in his head.

When Romulus discovers a dead body, he has a big clue to share with the authorities, but no credibility with law enforcement.

So he takes on the case himself.

Lemmon’s film, her second after the acclaimed “Eve’s Bayou” (1997), which also starred Jackson, is tough, bold and in dire need of rediscovery. I saw it in the theater, was spellbound by the experience, then puzzled how it faded into obscurity.

As of this writing, the film has reappeared as an option on Prime Video, where I hope adventurous filmgoers will find it and give it a look.

The screenplay is by George Dawes Green, based on his 1994 debut novel; having the novelist who concocted the tale also acting as screenwriter is a mixed blessing.

FAST FACT: Lemmons created a short film in college, “Fall from Grace,” that found her interviewing homeless people on the streets. That experience helped her say yes to the script for “Caveman’s Valentine.”

On the plus side, the story’s untamed wildness is intact, as are the visionary touches. Nevertheless, some aspects that were easy to accept on the written page, and can be interpreted as magical realism, are harder to buy when made literal.

I’m not referring to the most magical moments but the basic concept, which is flawed: Romulus is out of his mind but his state of consciousness ranges from madly bonkers to a keen sense of observation that matches Sherlock Holmes.

Romulus is a heartbreaking character, especially during the moments when he loses control of his temper in public. We can’t help but root for him and hope he’ll either heal or, at the very least, be able to pull himself together.

Yet, when outbreaks of madness are followed by scenes where he possesses Columbo’s crime fighting skills, it suggests an ability to control his demons in the story’s second act that contradicts the first.

I was always rooting for Jackson’s character, even as the story greatly stretches credibility by the third act. In fact, (minor spoiler) the upbeat conclusion is nice, but I would prefer something more credible.

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Terry Gilliam’s thematically similar “The Fisher King” (1991), which lacks a mystery plot but also centers on a schizophrenic homeless man (played by Robin Williams, in a magnificent performance) is as wild as Lemmons’ film but is better at balancing the fantastical with the hard “reality” of the narrative.

Nevertheless, Jackson is amazing in this, somehow making Romulus intimidating and painfully vulnerable in equal measures. This is my favorite of Jackson’s performances and easily one of his most underappreciated. Despite my problems with the story’s credibility, Jackson makes Romulus the riveting center.

Ann Magnuson, Anthony Michael Hall and Colm Feore also stand out, as does Tamara Tunie, wonderful as a figure from Romulus’ past who constantly checks in on him.

At the midpoint, Romulus confronts Lulu, his daughter (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) and the two share a drive and find common ground for the first time. This sequence is so powerful, thinking about it reduces me to tears.

The best parts of “The Caveman’s Valentine” have that kind of power.

“The Caveman’s Valentine” is a strange but often dazzling film, with an outstanding Terrence Blanchard score (the end credits suite is a joy to revisit). The scenes taking place in Romulus’ mind, particularly the moments where we see the seraphs (moth-like creatures with human bodies) buzzing around, are stunning.

Lemmons’ film was produced by Danny DeVito’s Jersey Films and Elie Samaha’s Franchise Films, the latter company that released Sean Penn’s “The Pledge” the same year.

That film, starring Jack Nicholson, is also about a crime fighter with a broken mind struggling to solve a mystery while facing his inner demons. I love both of those movies, but watching them as a double feature is too much.

Despite the imperfections, this is my favorite film from Lemmons and, for the many cinephiles who never miss a film from Jackson, this is a milestone performance.

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Mortal Kombat II: Chaotic, Silly and Somehow Still a Guilty Pleasure

“Mortal Kombat II” is pure torture for film critics.

How do you assess a movie that doesn’t play by the rules, offers an utterly confounding story and leaves actors scrambling for their dignity?

And, the most amazing part? What if it’s sorta, kinda fun in a way you couldn’t confide to even your closest friend?

That’s the challenge in briefing readers on this video game sequel, a film that never takes itself seriously but packages more supercharged fight sequences than any film not named “Wick.”

It’s silly. It’s a mess. It’s way too long. And it packs suitcases of guilty pleasures in its bloated running time.

Where to even begin with a traditional plot synopsis?

A sinister realm dubbed Outworld is intent on taking over Earthrealm. To do so, it gathers a team of high-powered warriors led by Emperor Shao Kahn (Martyn Ford) to defeat Earthrealm’s finest fighters. Think a Thanos-like villain who makes mincemeat of his enemies.

He seems pretty inevitable.

The good guys this time around include, inexplicably, a has-been movie star named Johnny Cage (Karl Urban). Why would he be one of the chosen ones to fight Shao Kahn and his forces?

Make it make sense. Good luck.

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Just know that Urban knows exactly how to play this absurd material, adding charisma and humor where it’s desperately needed.

His co-stars aren’t as fortunate, lacking the comic notes needed to ground their characters. Still, Adeline Rudolph does as much as humanly possible as the fierce Kitana, and both Jessica McNamee (Sonya Blade) and Mehcad Brooks (Jax) offer agreeable turns.

We’d also praise Josh Lawson’s Kano, a wisecracking warrior, but who in the world knows what he’s doing or why he’s here? Newbies will need to do some heavy research to fill in these backstories.

Then again, this franchise is meant for hardcore fans, not the casual filmgoer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Eager for cool kills? “Mortal Kombat II” has your back. Curious why one wounded warrior floats in a coma-like state, or why a washed-up film star should be summoned to save the world?

Darned if we know.

You’d think a two-hour film that offers nonstop character fights would grow dull, but one thing director Simon McQuaid gets right is how to make over-the-top slugfests pop.

Some warriors deploy fireballs, while others wield massive weapons. Either way, every battle sequence rocks, and thank goodness.

Because that’s all there is.

Urban’s addition to the franchise suggests he’ll be the main attraction. The story splits time between Johnny and Kitana. Neither is a bad choice, but the ensemble approach works against the film, making sure neither has much of an arc.

Video game movies aren’t meant to be high art, but the chaotic nature of “Mortal Kombat II” can leave some woozy. There’s talk of an important amulet, but that subplot feels insignificant in the big picture. Whatever moral ambiguity resides in Johnny’s call to heroism barely leaves a mark.

The sequel is akin to someone giving us a satchel of quarters and saying, “have fun!”

There are worse ways to spend two hours, but calling it a “movie” feels like a stretch.

HiT or Miss: “Mortal Kombat II” offers non-stop action, mind-numbing plot beats and a hero who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word.

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Did 1981’s ‘Enter the Ninja’ Help Launch Ninja Craze?

Menahem Golan’s “Enter the Ninja” (1981) has a title sequence where a ninja provides a demonstration, ranging from kicks to weapons preparation, as the opening credits unravel.

Leave it to Golan, the infamous businessman and canny filmmaker, for knowing what his audience wants and insists on giving them right away.

We meet our ninja, a man named Cole, played by Franco Nero, who is visiting a friend in Manila, where nefarious business practices are occurring. When Cole’s best friend is murdered, he goes on a one-man war against a sleazy business tycoon, Charles Venarius (played by the wonderful character actor, Christopher George, the lead of the 1976 drive-in smash, “Grizzly”).

There’s also a rival ninja named Hasegawa, played by Sho Kosugi, the true star of the film and the breakout who not only followed this series, but numerous martial arts thrillers inspired by it.

Another major star of the film is Mike Stone. The Maui-born martial arts sensation who was originally hired to play Cole and, reportedly due to lack of acting experience (though likely Golan’s belief that a movie star should carry this), he was replaced by Nero but wisely kept on the film as the fight choreographer and ninja double.

I’m a fan of Nero, who has obvious gravitas and a cool accent as a leading man (he was perfect playing a Castro-like villain in the 1990 “Die Hard 2”). However, to put it mildly, Nero gives the role his all, but he’s not believable as a ninja, and it’s obvious when Stone was brought in to double him.

The decision to have Nero’s deep vocals dubbed is as ridiculous as the unnaturally chipper voice that replaced him.

Kosugi, with his intense, Toshiro Mifune-level stare and intimidating presence, is the real deal and so is Stone, whose imprint on the film is undeniable. I wish Kosugi were in “Enter the Ninja” more, as his character makes a strong entrance but doesn’t get to take center stage until the film is nearly over.

In addition to his obvious martial arts showcases, Kosugi is also excellent as the disproving father in “Aloha Summer” (1988) and as The Assassin in “Blind Fury” (1990), the better-than-expected American remake of the essential “Zatoichi” (1962-1989) film series.

In addition to love scenes and a romantic subplot the film has no idea what to do with, there are also war flashbacks, indicating that Golan and Globus were visibly chomping at the bit to start their “Missing in Action” franchise (1984-1988).

Golan’s film is completely ridiculous and wildly entertaining, easily one of the best of the Cannon Films titles unrelated to their arthouse fare (where the 1985 “Runaway Train” and the 1987 releases “Barfly” and “Street Smart” rank among their proudest releases).

Sure, the dialogue is risible, and the plot is by-the-numbers, but when you have multiple shots of ninjas diving headfirst off a waterfall in slow motion, the lack of a fresh story can mostly be forgiven.

“Enter the Ninja” is credited, in film textbooks, as well as the 2014 documentary “Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films,” for igniting a ninja craze in the U.S. and in video stores. I’d argue that Eric Van Lustbader’s 1980 bestselling novel “The Ninja” and choice moments from the top-rated 1980 TV mini-series “Shōgun,” as well as the growing appeal of martial arts movies in the U.S., were also the reason.

I vividly recall a 1-800 ad that aired in the late 1980s on TV after midnight, which showed a karate-kicking, black-attired ninja, running through the woods and doing flips over bridges – a narrator stated that “you, yes, YOU,” could become like the warrior on your TV set!

How? By sending $100 to the address listed on screen, in order to obtain a massive book that reveals all the secrets of the ways of the ninja. Despite asking my mom about it the following morning, I have yet to obtain a copy.

Enter the Ninja (1981) pic.twitter.com/NPWLUwpvAp

— Retro Recall (☥) (@RetroMoviesDB) January 16, 2026

Whatever the reason for the fascination with all things masked, aikido-trained shadow warriors, Golan’s film and his Cannon Films (co-founded by his partner, Yoram Globus) exploited the notion, in this and many other films that followed.

The best and worst thing about “Enter the Ninja” is that it’s hilarious and rarely on purpose.

What came next? For starters, the unrelated “Revenge of the Ninja” (1983) and the hall of fame guilty pleasure, “Ninja III- The Domination” (1984), which all starred Kosugi, whose plays different ninja characters in each. From Cannon Films, the Michael Dudikoff “American Ninja” franchise followed, as did a Kosugi-starring TV series called “The Master” (1984).

“Enter the Ninja” isn’t great art, but it’s a fun B-movie and a well-made Cannon Film. There are better ninja and martial arts films that came before and after it, but where else can you see Nero explain to the villain, in a badly dubbed voice, “My friend, a ninja doesn’t kill, He eliminates and only for defensive purposes,” then kick the crud out of them?

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Is ‘The Christophers’ Ian McKellen’s Career-Best Performance?

Steven Soderbergh’s “The Christophers” showcases one of the best performances Sir Ian McKellen has ever given, which is enough reason to see it.

This one-of-a-kind comedy/drama is also unlike most other films about artists.

McKellen plays Julian Sklar, a reclusive but celebrated painter who infamously never finished a set of works titled The Christophers. Sklar’s rotten, money-hungry children (played by Jessica Gunning and former talk show host James Corden) hire Lori (Michaela Coel) to finish The Christophers herself and pass it off as Julian’s work.

When Julian meets Lori, he’s taken by her intelligence and skill, but has his own ideas about what to ultimately do with The Christophers.

Soderbergh’s wonderful new film isn’t just about art but, refreshingly, also the joy and agony that goes into the process of creation. Considering that most films about the art world are either museum heists or bios about self-destructive painters, the film’s exploration of the actual work of painting and the frustrations it elicits is downright novel.

Movies about painters or artists in general typically have a montage of the brushes engorged with paint, the artist madly working the canvas, in the same way movies about artists have scenes of actors furiously typing. It’s a cliché and doesn’t tap into the actual process, let alone how much fun it is to create.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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To give most filmmakers a break, staging the act of creating art as a cinematic event isn’t easy. Outside of the pottery montage from “Ghost” (1990), does any film, let alone a mainstream movie, reflect how an artist’s imagination, skill and obsession lead to a physical approximation of the idea?

I suppose the ultimate film that painstakingly demonstrates how art emerges from artists has to be “La Belle Noiseuse” (English title “The Beautiful Troublemaker”), in which a legendary artist paints a young Emmanuelle Béart nude in real time and we experience every paint stroke and literally watch paint dry.

Oh, and the film is four hours long.

For everyone else, there’s “The Christophers.” McKellen gives such a forceful performance, flush with lengthy, hilarious monologues, that he’s almost the whole show here. Coel brings dimension and intelligence to her role, and its refreshing to see Cordan play a character we’re supposed to loathe.

“The Christophers” plays like a companion piece to McKellen’s vehicles “Mr. Holmes” (2015) and especially “Gods and Monsters” (1998), the latter of which is still McKellen’s best movie and performance. In both that film and “The Christophers,” he plays an elderly artist who challenges and inspires a young protégée.

RELATED: SODERBERGH’S ‘MAGIC MIKE’ ENDS WITH A WHIMPER

The music and cinematography are crisp, and Soderbergh allows the extensive two-person scenes to go long but the edits never allow it to drag or feel claustrophobic.

The final scene brought a tear to my eye, as screenwriter Ed Solomon arrives at a perfect conclusion. Film buffs will remember Solomon, not only as the author of Soderbergh’s prior “No Sudden Move” (2021) but, no joke, as the writer behind every single “Bill and Ted” movie (!).

There are so many McKellen hall of fame performances, such as “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring” (2001), “X-Men” (2000), “Richard III” (1995) and “Apt Pupil” (1998). This one is among his richest and most complex.

“The Christophers” could have been a filmed play and, at times, feels like one. This is among its boldest achievements, as it manages to keep us engaged in what is mostly a movie about two people in a house trying to figure one another out.

Considering the achievement of Richard Linklater’s three-person 2001 drama, “Tape,” it’s almost as if Soderbergh was attempting to audaciously make the two-person variant. What could have come across as a potential stunt or something that should have stayed on stage instead emerges as a thought-provoking comedy on the notion of authorship, both in art and life.

Three and a half stars (out of four)

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‘Hokum’ – So Scary You Can’t Keep Quiet in a Theater

Damien McCarthy’s “Hokum” begins with an author named Bauman (Adam Scott) putting the finishing touch on his novel, a nihilistic, Cormac McCarthy-like epic set in the desert,

We see the imagery Bauman is shaping, of a father and son wandering through sun-baked dunes, searching for a way out, failing to find it and facing their mortality.

This opener is jarring, as it made me wonder, “Am I even watching the right movie?”

Actually, this thematic prologue is key to what follows and not just because of what Bauman’s story is about – the author is miserable, viciously sarcastic and, like the characters he’s created, about to give up.

Bauman flies to Ireland and checks into the Bilberry Woods Hotel, with his visit intended to be personal and private. The staff at the hotel are chatty and helpful, particularly when they inform him that the Honeymoon Suite is unavailable, because the room is inhabited by a witch and sealed off from the rest of the hotel.

Things get stranger from there.

Be warned, this one is seriously scary and gave me, a lifelong horror fan, some of the biggest jolts I’ve ever had in a movie theater. I had one audible reaction after another – apologies to whoever sat next to me.

McCarthy’s prior thriller, “Oddity” (2024), also told a great story and really scared me. At press time, I have yet to see his directorial debut, “Caveat” (2020) because, well, I’m not always in the mood to watch something that is going to make me lose an entire night’s sleep.

What I’m saying is this: between “Oddity” and especially “Hokum,” we can welcome McCarthy into the class of cool new kids to this genre. Mr. McCarthy, you can have a seat right over there, next to Mike Flanagan, Zach Cregger and Oz Perkins.

Sometimes McCarthy gives in to the contemporary tendency to hit us with jump scares, but the majority of the most potent images here are a total surprise. Better still, McCarthy gets us up close to what you don’t want to see, maximizing the level of fright in each fear -inducing image.

I remember Scott from the once-notorious HBO erotic drama series, “Tell Me You Love Me” (2007) and have enjoyed his pivot into comedy. Here, Scott is well cast, bringing both snarky humor but dramatic weight to Bauman and manages the tricky task of playing a fascinating and unlikable character.

“Hokum” tells a great story, showcases a fascinating location with colorful side characters and even bookends that opening story within a story. McCarthy is clearly a fan of Stephen King and takes cues from King’s “The Shining” (1980) and especially “1408” (2007) without ripping them off.

Like the best of King, it makes you afraid of the dark, finds welcome moments of humor and always keeps the audience riveted. The legacy of “Hokum” will be how hard it rattles an audience but let’s not overlook how exciting and morbidly funny it is, too.

Since we’re unsure as to whether the phenomenon Bauman witnesses is real at first, his initial detachment makes the proceedings unpredictable. For example, we can’t yell at the screen, “Don’t go in there,” if the protagonist doesn’t believe in the supernatural.

FAST FACT: Damien McCarthy toiled as an electrician and threw short films up on YouTube to kick start his filmmaking career.

Bauman’s staunch disbelief in ghosts is like a superpower. The scenes where he gets deeper into the hotel’s hidden rooms and tunnels are rich in suspense, as Bauman is no dummy but wants real answers that no one in the hotel is giving him.

In the end, not all of my questions were answered, but when the tone shifts to the starkly emotional and even dips into a revenge tale in the late going, it stills works.

We’re at a moment where the horror genre, soon after the landmark year of 2025 (“The Monkey,” “Sinners,” “Keeper” “Wolf Man” and “Weapons” were among the very high points), can either keep surprising us and emerge as vital pop art or, well…”Lee Cronin’s The Mummy” is a recent example of how it can go back to the lows of “Turistas” (2006), “Captivity” (2007) and the train of bad remakes from the early 2000s.

“Hokum,” in the best way, is as pivotal a horror film as “Insidious” (2011), in that it isn’t about easy gushes of gore or trying too hard within the confines of a studio product to make an imprint. “Hokum,” like “Insidious,” will matter in the long run because it isn’t gory or a studio product but an art film that only cares about scaring its audience, again and again.

The filmmaking, performances and screenplay are also top notch, but really, you’ll remember this one because of how much it terrified you. I can’t wait to see it again. For everyone else, “The Devil Wears Prada 2” is also playing next door.

Four Stars (out of four)

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‘Devil Wears Prada 2’ Lets Miranda Off the Hook

It could have been worse.

Delayed sequels often suggest desperation, if not creative failure. For every exception like “Top Gun: Maverick” we’re punished by that “Zoolander” update or, much worse, “Caddyshack 2.”

“The Devil Wears Prada 2” clears that low bar with a still-solid cast, some genuine yuks and the kind of fan service that doesn’t make our teeth hurt. It struggles to find its purpose and commits a near-unforgivable sin with Meryl Streep’s iconic character, the scene-swiping Miranda Priestly.

This Miranda is too nice. It’s like making Darth Vader cuddly or Hannibal Lecter fond of puppies.

Runway magazine has made the leap to the digital age, but it hasn’t been easy. The film opens with a poorly sourced magazine feature that draws a digital bullseye on the rag.

The solution? Hire hotshot journalist Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway), the Runway alum who is now a respected reporter. Her viral video defense of journalism, seen here as inspiring but gag-inducing in real life, finds her back in Miranda’s inner circle.

Few films genuflect to journalism quite like “Prada 2,” and the timing couldn’t be worse.

Trump WRECKS Norah O’Donnell as her trap for him backfires!@RubinReport: Norah has the gall to reference Trump as a pedophile and r*pist RIGHT AFTER the attack ‍ pic.twitter.com/MK08ZbK9GQ

— The Rubin Report (@RubinReportShow) April 27, 2026

The reunion is far from smooth, but bigger challenges await. Can Andy generate clicks with her just-the-facts journalism? And will the magazine’s owner commit the cash needed to keep real content afloat?

This isn’t exactly binge-worthy fare, let alone enough to hang a sequel on. Good thing more twists are on the horizon, but even hinting at them runs a huge spoiler risk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Hathaway’s Andy remains a do-gooder with a conscience. She’s aghast at income inequality and sees her journalism as a necessary corrective. Yet she delights in dolling up in designer wear handed to her by scene stealing Stanley Tucci, back as the lovable Nigel.

Andy sees no problem soaking in the luxury her position affords her while the “poors” make do with less. The film even features a scene where Miranda must fly coach, making fun of the “plebes” she’s forced to sit near.

The horror, the horror.

Maybe “Prada 2” is the ultimate Hollywood message movie. Down with income inequality, say the A-listers whose riders would dwarf a family of four’s annual budget.

The film’s returning screenwriter, Aline Brosh McKenna, either can’t see that moral hypocrisy, or she knows that “Prada” fans insist on opulence above all else.

“The Devil Wears Prada 2” is targeting a massive $75-80 million debut in North American, with some expecting ticket sales closer to $100 million.

The sequel should earn $100 million internationally for a global start in the $175-190 million range.https://t.co/kdfMKnt678

— Variety (@Variety) April 29, 2026

Some notable new faces fail to launch, from Kenneth Branagh as Miranda’s devoted husband to B.J. Novak as a mogul’s spoiled son. Lucy Liu appears briefly as the ultimate interview “get,” but that’s not the most cringe-worthy part of her role.

And then there’s Streep, bringing back one of her many iconic performances. Her Miranda could slay a dozen bullfighters with a withering glance.

She brings some, but not all, of that ferocity back, but something is missing. Maybe it’s knowing that being a magazine magnate in 2026 is like lording over a treasure trove of Blu-ray discs.

She’s yesterday’s news, but her softening still feels like a cheat.

There’s nothing wrong with Miranda discovering a conscience she buried decades ago, but that character arc is poorly realized. And Emily Blunt gets the worst of the sequel chores. Blunt’s Emily is back and besotted by a nerdy tech gazillionaire Benji Barnes (Justin Theroux, curiously shackled).

Her transformation is even more whiplash-inducing than Miranda’s.

None of the above is as cringe-worthy as Andy’s new romance (sorry, Adrien Grenier!). She has a meet not-so-cute with an Aussie building developer (Patrick Brammall), and their courtship sets a new low in lack-of-screen chemistry.

Why even bother? The romance adds nothing to the story, and the pairing’s “Two Weeks Notice”-style clash never heats up.

But that’s “The Devil Wears Prada 2,” an agreeable collection of shout outs, fashion closeups and member berries gussied it up for our inspection. It’s neither dull nor memorable, and it never makes us pine for Jackie Mason’s attempt to out Rodney Rodney Dangerfield.

It deserves a Miranda raised eyebrow, at best.

HiT or Miss: “The Devil Wears Prada 2” should satiate franchise fans, but the sequel goes wobbly at the worst possible time.

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