Much like The Devil Wears Prada, here’s a movie less about relationships and romance than its central fetish—food. Luckily, Dan Akroyd’s classic exsanguinating Child bit isn’t the funniest moment of the film. Streep is a confection, and Jane Lynch a sweet surprise. (Plus, was anyone expecting so much lustiness?)
before the title, be warned—there are possible spoilers in the review.
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