Last month, there was Disney’s Snow White, a live-action reimagining of one of the media conglomerate’s most cherished properties. It was a largely dismal affair, sold with little in the way of charm or imagination, fading from cineplexes nearly as quickly as it arrived. This month sees the release of a new version of Cinderella, and it’s looking to make more of a lasting impression, being about as far removed from the Mouse House as one can get. Riding the wave of recent female-led body horror like Titane and The Substance, The Ugly Stepsister is the feature debut of writer/director Emilie Blichfeldt, and she means business, immediately establishing herself as a talent to watch. Going full bore Grimm to tell a grotesque and pitch-black tale of beauty, class, and the desperate measures taken to confront body dysmorphia, The Ugly Stepsister is a stunning motion picture, beautifully crafted, enthusiastically performed, and executed through a cracked prism of a uniquely Nordic vision.
In Swedlandia, Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp) and Otto (Ralph Carlsson) are newlyweds, with the former moving into the latter’s palatial mansion alongside daughters Elvira (Lea Myren) and Alma (Flo Fagerli) to finalize the union, much to the chagrin of new stepdaughter Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Næss). When Otto’s premature death cuts the merriment and revelry short, his estate seizes Rebekka’s assets, leaving her and her family virtually penniless in unknown territory. Meanwhile, Elvira yearns for a brighter future for herself, often fantasizing about being whisked away into the arms of the handsome Prince Julian (Isac Calmroth), despite not being conventionally attractive herself. When word travels that the very rich and very single prince is holding a special matchmaking ball in search of a “noble virgin” to wed, Rebekka and Elvira jump at the opportunity to escape their newfound destitution. (Sister Alma is ineligible, having not yet had her “first bleeding.”) But to qualify as a potential suitor, Elvira must first partake in a series of rigorous finishing school courses, all while subjecting herself to crude cosmetic and reconstructive surgeries to radically alter her appearance into something more desirable.
Blonde-haired, beautiful, and talented, Agnes is the proper Cinderella surrogate in The Ugly Stepsister, but the story’s perspective actually remains with Elvira, assuming the titular role with her curly hair, braces, and general lack of poise. Things are bad enough when Otto’s death turns Rebekka’s family sideways, but the contention really grows between step-siblings, finding Elvira frequently playing second fiddle to Agnes’ good looks and talents. The matchmaking ball is Elvira’s ticket out of dodge, presenting the young woman the golden opportunity to realize her dream of marrying Prince Julian, so long as she spruces up her appearance. Of course, transforming from ugly duckling into the royal family member’s object of desire proves to be no easy feat, with Elvira first subjected to the gruesome experience of what can only be described as a medieval rhinoplasty, forcing her nose into a cage-like contraption to heal. And then there’s a lengthy procedure to extend her eyelashes by sewing them into her eyelids, a harrowing sequence lovingly sold in Argento-esque close-ups. And as for maintaining her weight, Elvira is offered the egg of a tapeworm to ingest, allowing her to maintain her sweet tooth on the regular while the parasite goes to work.
The Ugly Stepsister is genuinely repulsive and difficult to stomach at times, but Blichfeldt refuses to shy away from the rot, showcasing a heaping of flesh and bodily fluids as Elvira’s downward spiral toward achieving perfect beauty is nightmarishly explored in full. Production values are gorgeous, with terrific costuming efforts and cinematography by Marcel Zyskind selling the opulence of the film, while synthpop scoring from composer John Erik Kaada is wildly successful as well. Performances are strong across the board as well, with Myren an uncompromisingly indomitable presence as Elvira, selling the stuffing out of a tortured soul. As The Ugly Stepsister heads into its third act of dysfunction, the more familiar narrative elements of Cinderella take center stage, right down to the slipper lost at midnight. But once Elvira catches wind of Prince Julian’s search for the rightful owner, she’ll spare no expense to ensure that her own feet will fit the bill. (Hint: said efforts involve a large butcher knife.) The Ugly Stepsister lands on the right side of absurdity to laugh with, not at, but the overall tone of the piece is also heartrendingly tragic, detailing the graphic lengths one will go for just a modicum of acceptance. Beauty truly is pain, and Blichfeldt’s bold debut thrillingly presents that aphorism in all of its violent and unflinching glory. But fair warning: be sure to pack a sick bag if you’re heading out to the cinemas.
DIRECTOR: Emilie Blichfeldt; CAST: Thea Sofie Loch Næss, Lea Myren, Ane Dahl Torp, Flo Fagerli, Isac Calmroth; DISTRIBUTOR: IFC Films; IN THEATERS: April 18; RUNTIME: 1 hr. 45 min.
Comments are closed.