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  EW review: 'Prada' needs more devilishnessAlso: A little 'Candy' goes a long wayBy Lisa Schwarzbaum  Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway in "The Devil Wears Prada." YOUR E-MAIL ALERTS(Entertainment Weekly) -- As legendary Vogue editor Diana Vreeland used to say in the era before daunting editor Anna Wintour, who inspired the character of terrifying editor Miranda Priestly, who, in the yummy, carb-lite fashion-world fantasy "The Devil Wears Prada," rules the fictitious magazine Runway like a magnificently cruel empress -- well, as DV used to say, People Are Talking About ... Meryl Streep. Streep is Priestly, and I mean that from the topmost swoop of her divine, leonine silver coif to the polished tip of her pointiest Manolo. As she throws her PETA-disapproved fur jackets around, she exudes fearsome power with every shriveling glance she tosses over the tops of her reading glasses, every despotic command she murmurs. Streep has noodled around with comedy before -- air kisses are in order for her great silliness in the "Lemony Snicket" movie, and her hilarious ballbusting in the remake of "The Manchurian Candidate." But we haven't seen our Meryl like this until now, relishing the role as if it were the swellest Best of Everything achievement award a 13-time Oscar nominee could receive. And it is. Lording it over rosebud-pretty Anne Hathaway as Andrea "Andy" Sachs, a new assistant spectacularly (and sitcom-ly) wrong for the job (Downy-fresh Andy's got no interest in fashion, has never heard of Miranda Priestly, and wishes she were doing Important Journalism at The New Yorker), the seasoned star gently, graciously, and firmly steals the picture away from her younger colleague. For which thanks are due. It's not that Hathaway isn't gorgeous, a vision of ruby lips and brunet go-go bangs, her pony figure swathed in the killer wardrobe Andy learns to appreciate. But because Andy is such an impossible construct -- a girl too pretty to have badness stick to her, a manipulative innocent -- the whole giddy premise teeters on suspended disbelief as if on a skyscraper-high stiletto heel. Who am I kidding? The story is glossy junk begat of just-plain junk anyway: Lauren Weisberger, who wrote the hiss-and-tell roman a clef best-seller on which the picture is based, was herself an assistant to Wintour, and her novel is greasy with pride in her own "integrity" and disdain for both her boss and the magazine whose paychecks she was presumably not forced at gunpoint to collect. The movie "Prada," directed by HBO regular David Frankel (he's helmed "Entourage," which helps explain Adrian Grenier's appearance as Andy's true-blue boyfriend), defangs most of Weisberger's crass opportunistic glee, but the whole thing is still more of a pop-culture sow's ear than a Fendi purse, with the laugh-out-loud spangly bits more likely the detail work of uncredited funny fellows like Paul Rudnick than the sensibility of credited screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna ("Laws of Attraction"). Blameless Andy is first too pure for the Priestly cult, then seduced, then pure again at the end, only with a better wardrobe? Whatever, sister -- it's Streep who pops our flashbulbs. EW Grade: B 'Strangers With Candy'Reviewed by Lisa Schwarzbaum Those mourning the demise of the unhinged Comedy Central series "Strangers With Candy" know who you/we are. In which case, the mere announcement that "Strangers With Candy," the movie, brings back 46-year-old "boozer, user, and loser" Jerri Blank (Amy Sedaris) for more inappropriate, sorta thrillingly raunchy adventures in the halls of Flatpoint High School may stand as its own movie review. The ostensible "prequel" corrals the whole "Candy" gang, including Stephen Colbert as married-with-a-sexual-secret science teacher Chuck Noblet, Paul Dinello (who also directs) as art teacher (and object of Noblet's affections) Geoffrey Jellineck, and Greg Hollimon as martinet principal Onyx Blackman. There's the matter of a science-fair project, and a running joke involving the long-term vegetative condition of Jerri's father (Dan Hedaya), an affliction that beset the old man on account of his daughter's life on the streets and in the slammer for 32 years. (Just because he's comatose doesn't mean he can't be trotted out to school events, like any other detached dad.) If you loved Amy Sedaris before in a golfer-lady wig and inbred chump's grin, you'll maybe love her again here, while wishing she had another TV-episode-size venue for her talents: There's a whole lot of padding and stretching going on in these 85 minutes. On the other hand, there's a whole lot of groovy guest stars on hand, too -- it's hip kids' night out. Philip Seymour Hoffman and Allison Janney throw all their classy might into playing prissy school board members. Matthew Broderick is a weaselly science-fair ringer. Sarah Jessica Parker rolls her eyes as an unmotivated guidance counselor. The series was created by longtime Chicago improv pals Colbert, Dinello, and Sedaris as a cracked but loving parody of after-school specials through the ages, the kind where learning and hugging -- ugh -- conclude all business. Mr. Colbert has, of course, gone on to become America's most trusted source of "truthiness" with his weeknightly "Colbert Report." How nice -- how American -- that the bigwig is still true to his school. EW Grade: B 'Leonard Cohen: I'm Your Man'Reviewed by Owen Gleiberman I'm not generally a big fan of tribute concerts, but this is a glorious exception. Yes, there were moments I wished that Leonard Cohen himself, with that voice of darkest gravel, had shown up on stage to do some of his songs (he appears, backed by U2, for one studio-shot number). But the performers, who include Nick Cave, Rufus Wainwright, and a startling tremolo-voiced singer named Antony, get so possessed by the words and melodies they're singing that you're transported by the sheer drama of their passion for Cohen's music. In "Leonard Cohen: I'm Your Man," the concert is mixed with interviews with the 71-year-old Canadian singer-songwriter, and he's a charmingly self-deprecating raconteur. Lofty claims by Bono aside, you hardly need an English degree to hear the lyrical prose-poem beauty of songs like "Everybody Knows" or the great "Hallelujah," and this movie has moments so gorgeous they brought me to tears. EW Grade: B+ Click Here 
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