With the official confirmation of Top Gun 3 this week and the imminent release of the highly-anticipated The Devil Wears Prada 2, I thought I’d take a look at the risks that surround a belated sequel, a cinematic trend that doesn’t show any signs of slowing down soon (but hey, I guess it’s better than a remake). Any sequel has its risk but these become heightened for films released decades after the original; the first film has often cemented itself into the culture with legions of multi-generational fans and has lasted so long without a follow-up, fans often aren’t even asking for it. So, when it comes, it had better be good.

The real risk of any sequel, but tenfold for a belated one, is the damage it can do to the original. There is a real danger of diluting the brand either through overexposure or repetition of what made the first film so loved or through a simply inferior sequel, and when you’re trying to follow up a culture touchstone, the bar to be labelled an equal is incredibly high. Most belated sequels don’t reach it, leaving us with something inferior that doesn’t add much to what we’ve seen before and can even take away from it. Even for the most awful of sequels, ones that are never rewatched or even avoided altogether by new fans warned by those who were there at the start still become a footnote; the original’s legacy is strained by lugging around the weight of a dud. Similarly, by nature of extending the story or giving us a vision of characters’ futures in a sequel, that can affect how we view the original story that was likely either nicely tied up or left us with questions that intentionally went (and should stay) unanswered). It can change the taste of the original ending by adding a sense of dramatic irony in knowing how life plays out in the future. The value of this is all determined by the value of the sequel. Financially, there is less at risk, story wise and in the eyes of fans, the stakes can be high.

One of the biggest pitfalls that a lot of belated sequels fall victim to is an overreliance on fan service or nostalgia-baiting, crafting the film around references and familiarity rather than treating it as a story in its own right. Belated sequels do need to have a certain level of callbacks or references to maintain a link to their source material, particularly with the big time jump, but these should be a few winking nods, not something to over rely on. This is where films tend to feel the most like cash cows, made purely for monetary reasons: people liked this before, let’s give them more of the same (with little artistic merit). The films that suffer from this often end up feeling like pale impersonations of the originals. Plots come off as thinly drawn and characters become caricatures, reduced to the characteristics present in their iconic quotes. Most belated sequels seem to forget that the originals told stories with clear arcs which is why they worked; the sequels often refuse to really commit to their own somewhat self-contained story, forgetting structure in favour of beats that riff on the past or simply let the characters loose without much of a plan. The original films were made without knowledge of their future success, some without even an inkling of the impact their film may end up having. Belated sequels, in particular, operate not in a vacuum but in an intense whirlwind of hype and pressure. They know their source material has stood the test of time and so the bar is high; they also know they have fans to impress, but great art is not made by committee. Nostalgia of course is part of why people will go to see these films and an element of it is important in getting potentially sceptical audiences on side: recognisable elements that offer familiarity can endear people to the film, encouraging them to give it the benefit of the doubt. However, references are like cards, if you build a house of them, it will collapse and that is where most belated sequels fall down. The stories need to connect without becoming repetitive; callbacks can be the connective tissue but too many and it simply becomes a tribute act.

Another hazard for the filmmakers is their treatment of their characters. As mentioned above, sometimes they lean too far into what they think people loved about them originally (based purely on what is still popular i.e. quotes or pop culture references), neglecting the rest of the character. Yes, we may have loved to loathe a snooty frenemy, but the character stuck because of the heart behind it. We may have loved one character for their crazy schtick, but try and double it with a new addition and it feels lazy and on-dimensional. Characters cease to become well-rounded and are flattened to their biggest traits. A lot of belated sequels also struggle to strike the right balance in character development. If we haven’t seen these people in multiple decades, you would hope to see some growth from the intervening years, without losing the core of what made them who they are. If a character is the exact same as they were twenty years ago (with the exception of that being a conscious decision for comedic or story reasons), you don’t buy into them as real people which can cast a façade across the whole piece. At the same time if the actor seems to be playing an entirely different person you might question what you are watching. It is a delicate balancing act and is often integral to the quality of the sequel. 

Aside from the portrayal of the characters themselves, a lot of belated sequels also fall prey to brushing aside old, beloved characters in favour of giving new, less-developed ones screentime. This is especially prevalent when a film is clearly trying to set itself up for the future with a new generation, positioning itself as a ‘legasequel’. Whilst it is great to get new characters introduced, and often needed to produce something fresh, when this comes at the expense of old favourites it can instead alienate its audience, feeling like it is trying to reset itself for the next generation rather than respecting the fans that have given it its status. In the case of ‘legasequel’-leaning belated sequels, the focus then seems to be less on offering a satisfying sequel than setting up for a future one (aka already jumping to the next money-maker). It also begins to fall down structurally when too many characters are in play, leaving little room for development of characters or relationships and making the whole thing feel very shallow.

Another thing that belated sequels have to contend with due to the protracted gap between them and their predecessor is the different era of filmmaking. Aesthetically and technically, the development of filmmaking equipment and technology as the decades go by can have a huge impact, but so can filmmaking trends. You can often tell which decade a film is from (particularly blockbusters of mainstream films) due to an overarching style of film or cinematic language. This evolves over time and even more so in the past decade with the rise of streaming and maddening advent of ‘Netflix lighting’ or ‘second screen viewing’. If you make a sequel a few decades late and lean entirely into the modern cinematic style, you lose a huge amount of connective tissue with the original whether that is in the cinematic language or simply the feel of the film, brought about by the visuals (e.g. film grain vs digital) or the elusive emotional recognition. The best belated sequels play into the feel of the original whilst utilising modern tools to elevate it. The characters are also now playing in the modern world so it wouldn’t make sense to, for example, give a 2020s set film a full 80s feel, but, again this is where a balance must be struck.

One of the most successful (not just financially, although that as well) belated sequels in my book is Top Gun: Maverick, but even with that on the books, the official confirmation of Top Gun 3 elicited a sigh. I was filled with trepidation when Maverick was first announced (and I am several generations behind those who feel true ownership over the original) and pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be a great film. It managed to not only work as a belated sequel to Top Gun but successfully recaptured the kind of film it was and the 80s action era whilst bringing it into modern day. It reminded audiences what they love about movies in an era where a true blockbuster is so often just superhero fare (cinemas and audiences clearly sorely missed what used to be). It took us back in time yet stayed up to date. It found an emotional hook in Rooster that connected it directly with the big emotions of the first film, lending it heart and making it feel like a genuine continuation with a realistic throughline. It balanced throwbacks with new additions, introducing a new generation without sidelining the old. It felt like it showed the real evolution with the times, casting Maverick into the push and pull of old hands and new blood. Yes, there was definitely a good old chunk of nostalgia in there but it wasn’t so reliant on it that those new to the franchise (yes, apparently there are people who saw Maverick having never seen Top Gun) could latch onto it as its own thing and weren’t alienated. If anything, a lot of the nostalgia was for this type of film, as well as Top Gun specifically. References were weaved in well and a lot felt natural due to the emotional core of the story.

That said, it feels like they got lucky; they found all of the right pieces and because of that I’m not sure there are enough left for a third outing. I also think that the near four-decade gap between the original and sequel allowed time for the first film to breathe and for its iconography to be firmly cemented in the culture (although it does sound like that happened pretty instantaneously if my parents’ anecdotal experiences are anything to go by). Crucially, that gap allowed for nostalgia and a sense of distance, luxuries that will not be afforded to Top Gun 3. Whilst I think Maverick used nostalgia cleverly and not as a crutch, I don’t see a future Top Gun being successful without it but for a third outing it would feel repetitive and almost like flogging a dead horse. No new nostalgia will really be felt for the events of Maverick due to a lack of time (although, honestly, I struggle to think of many particular moments from that film that feel iconic in their own right).

Then, of course, we have the upcoming release of The Devil Wears Prada 2. In all honestly, I was pretty against the notion of this from the start. The Devil Wears Prada is probably my most-watched film and one I’ll never tire of; it’s the kind of film that if I come across it when channel surfing, I’ll watch it no matter how much is left (seriously, even if Andy’s just rhown her phone in the fountain). All of this to say, I’m clearly protective of it. It is one of those films that feels like lightning in a bottle, something not expected to have the impact it has had, an impact that has only grown over the past two decades. It was a fully-formed story that did not cry out for a follow up. The promotional material so far hasn’t been promising; the story feels unclear and the characters in some respects are acting bizarrely out of character (see above), let alone the fashion discourse, although of course these clips are all out of context so I’m not passing too strong a judgement. The new film, of course, will also be set in an entirely new era. Magazines aren’t what they once were, something I’m sure the film will explore, but that casts a whole different tone. There’s a reason romcoms are no long populated with the Andy Sachs, Andi Andersons and the myriad other female journalists who may or may not be named Andy; the world of magazines no longer offers the glossy drama and fun as the industry has been yet another casualty of the tech revolution. Whilst The Devil Wears Prada worked because it showed the grit behind the scenes, its backdrop wasn’t as struggling and cynical as in the world today; it will be brought down to reality with a bump. I’m intrigued to see how they handle it. I’m keeping all of my fingers crossed that my worries about The Devil Wears Prada 2 are unfounded and it doesn’t become a ball and chain hanging onto the original. My ultimate question for the film is why? That’s a question a lot of sequels and belated sequels struggle to answer (besides financial reasons) and I’m really hoping this one pulls through. For me, the stakes feel high. At least all of the main cast have returned so there aren’t any glaring omissions or ham-fisted attempts to explain a core character’s absence that really boiled down to a contract dispute or behind-the-scenes drama.

For all my wailing about sequels, I am very much aware that film is a business and they are smart money moves. But film is also art, and that shouldn’t be sacrificed for the almighty dollar. The industry’s increasing reliance on IP is also a self-fulfilling prophecy, something that is leading to it cannibalising itself. Without big bets on original films at the level there were even just over a decade ago, general audiences have forgotten what it is like to fall in love with something new instead of settling for something old and potentially mediocre. In the meantime, belated sequels have a tricky job to do and I hope for an increasing success rate.