The Devil Wears Prada 2 snub: 4 signals in Adrian Grenier’s “disappointment” that Hollywood is rewriting the sequel era

Adrian Grenier’s absence from the devil wears prada sequel talk is not a casting footnote—it’s a case study in how modern franchises manage reputational risk. The actor says he “didn’t get the call” for The Devil Wears Prada 2 and frames it as “a disappointment, ” while also floating an explanation: backlash to Nate Cooper, the boyfriend character fans have branded unsupportive. His remarks open a bigger question: when a character becomes a meme, does a studio treat that as audience engagement—or a liability?

Why this matters now: a legacy sequel built on familiar faces

The forthcoming The Devil Wears Prada 2 is positioned as a return to an established screen world, anchored by the promise of core characters and recognizable dynamics. The sequel is set for theatrical release on May 1 (ET), and it brings back several names tied closely to the original film’s identity: Anne Hathaway as Andrea “Andy” Sachs, Meryl Streep as Miranda Priestly, Emily Blunt as Emily Charlton, and Stanley Tucci as Nigel Kipling. Director David Frankel returns as well.

Within that context, Grenier’s omission draws attention because Nate Cooper was not a minor presence in the first film’s emotional architecture: he served as the primary counterweight to Andy’s career shift and the increasing pressure of working for an intense boss. Whether audiences liked him or not, he was a recognizable hinge in the story’s personal-life costs.

What Grenier actually said—and what it implies about backlash calculus

Grenier, 49, says he would have “of course” loved to participate, but he also indicates he understands why he might not be included. His theory is blunt: public backlash to Nate may have contributed to the decision. He characterizes the reaction as “flak” and highlights how surprising the wave of memes and criticism was to him when it arrived online.

These statements do not confirm a studio rationale; they reflect an actor’s reading of how audience perception can shape creative decisions. Still, the framing is revealing: Grenier treats fan response not as background noise but as an active force that can narrow the safe choices available to a sequel. When asked whether he truly believes negative perception played a role, he responded with a laugh—“As opposed to what?”—suggesting he views backlash as at least as plausible as a purely narrative explanation.

Grenier’s comments also underline a key tension in franchise storytelling: the difference between a character arc ending inside a film and a character becoming narratively “unusable” outside it. In the original story, Nate and Andy break up and later reconnect after Andy quits her job; at their final meetup, Nate says he is moving to Chicago for a new chef job. When the possibility was raised that Nate’s storyline simply ended, Grenier remained unconvinced. The subtext is that, in a sequel economy, “story ended” is rarely the only explanation audiences accept—particularly when other central figures return.

the devil wears prada and the new sequel rule: audiences edit the canon

The deeper shift isn’t that viewers criticize characters—audiences always have. The shift is that online culture can consolidate a single, simplified verdict on a character’s morality and circulate it for years. Grenier himself acknowledges that he came to see “subtleties and nuance” only after “the wisdom of the masses came online” and “started to push against the character. ”

In a 2021 interview with Entertainment Weekly, Grenier added that he might have been “as immature” as Nate at the time and that, after “time to reflect” and “much deliberation, ” he recognized “the truth in that perspective. ” That admission matters because it illustrates a feedback loop that sequel-makers must now navigate: actors and creators absorb audience judgments, and those judgments can influence what a returning character would represent on screen.

For a studio, reintroducing a polarizing character can be a strategic choice—either to redeem, complicate, or re-litigate. But it can also be seen as inviting a distracting side debate into a film that is likely designed to foreground the central professional and interpersonal tensions that defined the original’s appeal. In this light, Grenier’s “didn’t get the call” becomes a window into how the devil wears prada franchise management might prioritize coherence of tone over completeness of cast.

Spinoff talk and the economics of “room for a story”

Grenier attempts to flip the absence into opportunity, saying it “leaves room for a beautiful spinoff” where Nate has his own film—then confirming he is serious: “Obviously!” That is not evidence such a project is in development. It does, however, spotlight a market reality: when a character is controversial, a spinoff can compartmentalize the risk. A spinoff can also test whether the audience’s criticism is durable or whether it softens when a character becomes the protagonist rather than the obstacle.

Yet Grenier’s suggested pathway contains its own challenge: the same backlash he cites as a reason for exclusion could be the reason a spinoff would face an even steeper perception hurdle. If Nate is broadly remembered as unsupportive, the project would need to rebuild audience trust without erasing the very traits that made him legible in the first place.

From red carpets to real life: Grenier’s next project signals a pivot

Even as he discusses The Devil Wears Prada 2, Grenier is focused on a different kind of story. He is described as a Hollywood star-turned-Texas farmer and is promoting a new short film, Self Custody, directed by Garrett Patten. The film follows a struggling father who attempts to reclaim an old bitcoin bonus worth millions, spiraling into encrypted wallets, forgotten passwords, and dark web danger.

That contrast—legacy fashion-world franchise versus a contemporary crypto-themed short—highlights another undercurrent in his remarks. Grenier is not positioning himself as stalled by the sequel decision; he is positioning himself as someone who has already shifted lanes. In that sense, the “disappointment” reads less like grievance and more like an acknowledgment of how entertainment franchises now make choices in dialogue with social media narratives.

What happens next for The Devil Wears Prada 2—and for the devil wears prada brand identity?

Factually, Grenier is out, and key original cast members are in for a May 1 (ET) theatrical release. Analytically, the bigger test will be whether the sequel can satisfy nostalgia without becoming captive to it. If Grenier’s theory is right, then audience backlash is not merely commentary—it is a selection mechanism that shapes who is invited into the future of a story. If he is wrong, then the sequel is asserting a simpler principle: not every relationship thread needs a return.

Either way, the devil wears prada now faces a modern franchise question that did not exist in the same way in 2006: when the crowd has already rendered judgment on a character, does a sequel lean into that judgment—or refuse to let it define what comes next?