"Are On-Set Photos of 'The Devil Wears Prada 2' Revealing Too Much? | Vanity Fair"

As the umpteenth image stolen from the New York set of The Devil Wears Prada 2 hit social media, we couldn’t help but wonder: Aren’t all these photos spoiling the surprise for us?

At first, seeing these shots was a bit like catching up with old friends. After years of waiting, here were Anne Hathaway’s Andy Sachs, Meryl Streep’s Miranda Priestly, Emily Blunt’s Emily Charlton, and more, back in action again. It was a preview of a return to a world we loved, a little revival, just the right amount of nostalgia. Now, however, our feeds have turned into a marathon of spoilers. Here’s Andy, wearing Prada for the first time; Stanley Tucci’s Nigel, apparently still devoted to Miranda; Emily, who seems to have broken the shackles and is in a new, empowered era. We even know that the film will feature a museum gala themed, appropriately, around spring florals. (Groundbreaking!)

Of course, we can’t hear any dialogue merely from looking at photos—and thankfully so. Still, if we’ve seen practically everything that will be in the film itself long before we get to the theater, what will even be left for us?

The fault, of course, lies not with the images themselves, but with the compulsive way in which we feed on anticipation. Surprise used to be a promise; today, it is an achievement. If we hope to go into a highly publicized movie knowing as little as possible, we have to protect ourselves, shield ourselves—filter, deactivate hashtags, and mute keywords, as though we were on a secret mission.

It is no accident, for example, that Paolo Sorrentino did not want to reveal even half a line of the plot of La Grazia, which he will bring to the Venice Film Festival this year. Instead, all will be revealed in the theaters—the old-fashioned way. By indulging in endless spoilers, we risk a flattening of the cinematic experience. Everything becomes already known, already commented on, already decrypted.

Other directors do the opposite of Sorrentino, unveiling everything even before production begins. But in constant overexposure of everything from sets to scripts to the color of the protagonist’s socks, you lose something that used to be called “anticipation.”

I have a friend who is so terrified of spoilers that she doesn’t even read the synopses of the movies she goes to see. She even managed to go see Oppenheimer without knowing anything about what she was soon to witness—setting a world record, probably. But maybe she has a point. Because the charm of a film lies precisely in not knowing, in being surprised by a gesture, an expression, a twist. That’s what transforms a group of strangers in a movie theater into accomplices—into people experiencing something they never could have seen coming. So much for the scroll of a feed.

And so, despite all the love we have for Andy, Miranda, and their stylish and cruel cerulean-colored universe, perhaps the smartest move is to close the Instagram app.

As Miranda would say, that’s all.

Original story in VF Italia.