In a dark, twisted re-telling of Cinderella, Norwegian director Blichfeldt’s satiric THE UGLY STEPSISTER turns things around to tell the story from the view point of a stepsister. This Polish-shot period-film version of the classic fairy tale is a darkly comic body-horror film, which is more Brothers Grimm than either Disney or the familiar Charles Perrault fairy tale. Cinderella is a folk story that appears in various forms in numerous cultures around the world but this version turns much of our expectations on their heads. The retelling in THE UGLY STEPSISTER puts a darkly comic twist on it by focusing on the stepsister, making it more a commentary on standards for beauty, and the price that might be paid to achieve it. Rather than romantic fantasy, THE UGLY STEPSISTER takes a more real-world look at the ambition to marry a prince, in a highly-entertaining horror film that mixes the 18th century with anachronisms, to rip the mask off beauty. Maybe call it “beauty horror.”
THE UGLY STEPSISTER pokes holes in the classic romantic fantasy from the very start, with opening credits in a flowery pink script shown over a table laden with both fine china and ripe fruit. But upon closer look, we note unsettling signs of decay, and even insects, in a little satiric taste of what is to come. This darkly-funny tale is set to a score that is both comic, ironic and at times just odd, which adds another layer to it’s original, twisted take on this old tale.
The satire combines dark humor with body horror, but leans more into the horror side as the story unfolds. It is the stepsister who endures most of this, in a quest for beauty that this Cinderella has naturally, but the film underlines the role of society in setting the harsh standards for female appearance that is linked to happiness in her world.
In the fairy tale, everyone is either good or bad, but in this version, everything is gray. People are more complicated and humanly flawed, as they are in real life, and who the bad guys are sometimes shifts.
There is plenty of satiric, winking humor in THE UGLY STEPSISTER but be warned: this film is not for the weak of stomach. Although the horror remains grounded in an exaggerated reality rather than magical or fantasy, it can be disturbing to watch what the stepsister is subjected to in the quest for beauty in hopes of winning the prince. Images of decay are sprinkled throughout rather than fairy dust.
We first meet the stepsister, Elvira (an excellent Lea Myren) in the woods, where the Prince arrives to profess love for the beautiful girl. But then Elvira is jolted awake, revealing she is not in the woods with the prince but bouncing along in a rough cart filled with luggage and her family, and clutching a book of poetry written by the prince in her fantasy, the realm’s Prince Julian (Isac Aspberg). Elvira is not beautiful like in her dream but she isn’t ugly either. She’s just an ordinary-looking teen-aged girl, slightly chubby with braces on her teeth and a bit of acne. In her romantic fantasies, she is a beautiful version of herself, and the Prince she obsesses over is always arriving on his white horse to sweep her off her feet. Naive dreamer Elvira prefers her fantasy to her drab reality.
Suddenly, the cart that Elvira, her mother Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp) and younger sister Alma (Flo Fagerli) are riding in stops at a crossroads in the woods, where they transfer from the rude peasant cart they have been riding in to an elegant carriage. The carriage takes them to a stately country estate, where they are greeted by an elderly nobleman and his teen-aged daughter Agnes. Questions about their arrival linger but are quickly swept aside, as it turns out that the nobleman, Otto (Ralph Carlsson), is Rebekka’s betrothed, and a wedding follows immediately.
As the nobleman’s daughter, Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Naess), shows her new stepsister Elvira around the mansion, the contrasts between beautiful, blonde Agnes and plain, dark-haired Elvira are inescapable, and it is more than just their looks. Agnes is beautifully dressed, poised and aristocratic, while Elvira is oddly-dressed, socially-awkward and childishly naive. Clutching her book of princely poems, Elvira immediately confesses her dream of marrying the Prince, while Agnes politely suppresses a smirk, as she gazes warmly at her braces-wearing new stepsister.
Of course, there were no braces in the 18th century where this story appears to take place, one of many anachronisms that the director employs, to remind us that this beauty-obsession horror is not just limited to a time when girls might dream of marrying princes and living happily ever after.
When the old nobleman dies suddenly, both Agnes and Elvira make a shocking discovery: neither family has any money. Debts take most of the land although the newly created family is left the house. Agnes’ new stepmother Rebekka has to figure out how they will live. Marriage for money seems the only option, but Rebekka despairs that she now is too old to attract a rich man, with one less-attractive daughter, Elvira, and the other, Alma, still pre-pubecent and so young for marriage. Beautiful Agnes, in mourning for her father, is ignored, as is the body of her father, laid out in the parlor for a wake.
When a messenger arrives from the palace with invitations for all “noble virgins” to a ball, where the prince will select a bride, it seems a solution to their problems is at hand. Ignoring her beautiful stepdaughter Agnes, who is already becomes rebellious over her stepmother’s lack of interest in a funeral for her late father, Rebekka hatches a plan to remake her obedient but plain daughter Elvira into the Prince’s dream girl. She has three months until the ball.
It is not a pretty process, and the competition is fierce. It is also a process filled with comically-exaggerated characters. Both Elvira and Agnes are sent to a finishing school, run by headmistress (Sophia von Kronenberg) and masculine dance master Madame Vanja (Katarzyna Herman), where they learn dancing, court manners and poise. But mom/stepmom Rebekka really focuses on Elvira, who also gets visits to a “beauty specialist,” Dr. Esthetique (Adam Lundgren). The doctor’s makeovers, pre-painkillers, bring to mind the old saying about suffering for beauty, and stray into something more akin to torture. These include a “nose job” that leaves Elvira wearing a little metal nose shield to protect the work.
There is plenty of dark, mocking humor but little that is romantic or magical in this retelling, as the horror tale unfolds. Director Emilie Blichfeldt keeps the pacing brisk and storytelling focused, and always keeps a little smirk, even as things get more full-blown horror. The ick factor is pretty high.
One of the film’s great strength is the outstanding cast, who are good top to bottom, starting with Lea Myren as the innocent “ugly stepsister” and Thea Sofie Loch Naess as the beautiful, haughty Agnes, who eventually does fall into a servant role and the nickname Cinderella, although she is not wholly innocent in that fall.
As Elvira, Lea Myren is excellent, taking on the difficult task of portraying Elvira as an awkward, funny-looking, dreamy teen to a confident, emerging beauty after all her work. That transformation is not small feat but Myren does it brilliantly, and with as much absurd humor as she can squeeze out of this tragic tale. Throughout, her Elvira remains remarkably naive and cooperative, not matter what she is made to endure, but other characters evolve into harder, and often more cynical versions of themselves.
Thea Sofie Loch Naess as Agnes/Cinderella has grabbed attention for her performance, creating a more complex character than the simple, sweet Cinderella we know. Her Agnes evolves through her experiences, and she retains a bit of her aristocratic haughtiness even while accepting her reduced circumstances. She mourns her father alone, and all she has lost, appealing to her long-dead mother (Agneszka Zulewska) in her sadness.
Ane Dahl Torp’s stepmother Rebekka is focused on survival, slowly losing focus on what is best for her daughters. Flo Fagerli’s younger sister Alma goes from a red-headed preteen imp, largely ignored by all except Elvira, to a self-reliant, cynical wild-child who ultimately acts to rescue her sister.
This horror-tale re-imagining of the classic Cinderella is clever, insightful and original but it takes a bit of a strong stomach as it leans into the body horror. The ending is ironic and ambiguous, more an escape than a happy one for both Cinderella and the stepsister, but as happy as it can be after all that went before.
THE UGLY STEPSISTER opens Friday, Apr. 18, in theaters.
RATING: 3.5 out of 4 stars
