The Ugly Stepsister

More often than not, most retellings of classic fairy tales in recent years have largely been produced by Disney, in their attempt to remake as many of their classic animated films as possible. While many have been successful, few have come anywhere near the cultural impact of their original counterparts. Just last month we saw the implosion of Disney’s recent trend with the box office disaster Snow White, but thankfully another, more original, fairy tale retelling has arrived in its wake. A feature film debut from Norwegian filmmaker Emilie Blichfeldt, this is a wicked and genuinely disturbing update of a Cinderella story.

Courtesy Shudder 

Elvira (Lea Myren) and her younger sister, Alma (Flo Fagerli) have traveled far away with their mother, Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp), who is marrying an elderly rich man. Quickly after their ceremony, the old man dies and leaves Rebekka with far less money than she had initially hoped. Inheriting his property and his sole daughter, the beautiful Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Næss), Rebekka forces Elvira to enlist in finishing classes and to undergo a series of reconstructive surgeries to make her appear more desirable for Prince Julian (Isac Calmroth). With an invite to the Prince’s ball, Elvira begins to unravel in her quest to become the Belle of the Ball. Elvira begins the story as a sympathetic figure, having been the subject of countless humiliations, dismissals, outright brutality and a victim of the toxic beauty standards of the era. She wants nothing else but to seek the approval of the world around her, hoping to be deemed worthy of love by subjecting herself to the inhumane standards of the time. However, we see the titular character become increasingly corrupted in her quest for what she believes to be true beauty. In flipping the Cinderella story on its head, this is telling a Cinderella fable of its own.

Writer/director Emile Blichfeldt’s debut feature, The Ugly Stepsister is often sickening, but the filmmaker uses body horror through the way of the Brothers Grimm masterfully. Similar to the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, this is a brutal and grotesque picture, but is clever in how it delivers these shocks, allowing the audience’s imagination to fill in the gaps at just the right moments. While utilizing an explicit, even punk-rock approach, there are horrific mutilations and quick bursts of violence, but Blichfeldt shows just the appropriate restraint to maximize tension.

Courtesy Shudder

We bear witness to Elvira, in her pursuit of acceptance, engage in many crude surgeries and dismemberments, including a chisel to her nose to make it smoother, sewing fake lashes onto her eyelids and even accepting a tape worm egg to consume, in hopes that it will keep her frame in check. Blichfeldt’s film has all the metaphorical, Cronenbergian body horror you would expect, yet still burrows under the skin of some universal themes. Lea Myren’s skilled physicality and subtly transformative performance allows Elvira to be a conflicting anti-hero as we are forced to be with her through her ever-growing moral and psychological erosion. Elvira’s fantasy of being swept up by a Prince opens the film, shot and lit with striking colors and moody fog straight out of a Mario Bava film. We’ll occasionally see Elvira’s fantasies of being loved and finding acceptance, looking to be liberating from the cruel reality of the times. It’s a nice counter to the film’s overt grimness and allows the audience to further engage with Elvira during her descent.

Shot by cinematographer Marcel Zyskind (The Dead Don’t Hurt), the naturalistic cinematography echoes the likes of Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette while creating a tactile post-modern world where darkness lingers within the lavish sets and costuming. Blichfeldt’s tone is naturally ominous, while retaining a cynical attitude, comparable to Lars Von Trier. The film’s tone is largely one-note, even if that note is a solid one. Blichfeldt’s debut isn’t on the level of fellow female gaze-centric genre auteur’s Julia Ducournau and Coralie Fargeat, but this should further continue the streak of emerging genre films from these unique perspectives.

Courtesy Shudder

The Ugly Stepsister is a fearless and untamed directorial debut from writer/director Emilie Blichfeldt. An audacious and grim retelling of a classic fairy tale, Blichfeldt’s imaginative take on Cinderella uses body horror and pitch-black satire to eschew morality and toxic beauty standards. It may not have the depth or maximalist approach of The Substance or Titane, but this is a highly memorable and unnerving debut from an artist with a distinct voice.

The Ugly Stepsister is now playing in theaters and is streaming on Shudder May 9th.