The Ugly Stepsister Review: Cinderella Receives a Gruesome and Empathetic Body Horror Reinterpretation

      Note: This review was initially published as part of our 2025 Sundance coverage. The Ugly Stepsister is set to hit theaters on April 18.

      In light of the discouraging lack of originality in Disney’s live-action remakes, which may suggest that these enduring stories have been exhausted, Norwegian director Emilie Blichfeldt breathes new life into the Cinderella narrative. Her strikingly crafted and darkly twisted debut feature follows Elvira (Lea Myren, making a remarkable feature debut) as she lives in the shadow of her stepsister Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Naess) while they both compete for the attention of the Prince (Isac Calmroth). Offering a perverse body horror perspective on the classic tale, The Ugly Stepsister unflinchingly explores the sacrifices made for beauty, blending gruesome elements with a striking sense of empathy.

      Blichfeldt draws inspiration from the Brothers Grimm version (which features a darker theme involving self-harm), distinguishing her work from the recent money-driven horror adaptations of Peter Pan and Winnie the Pooh through both its craftsmanship and emotional depth. Eager for the Prince's affections, which she glimpses in feverish dreams, Elvira is willing to go to great lengths, including altering her body to meet a specific beauty ideal, all motivated by her overbearing, newly widowed mother Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp). Early scenes of pimple-popping and corrective “surgery” set the mood for physical torment involving eyes, toes, and stomachs, all in pursuit of happiness through a man's validation. Even the subtler body horror elements––such as a spaghetti-eating scene––evoke an unsettling atmosphere reminiscent of Joel Potrykus’ Buzzard. The quest for the grotesque isn't entirely new, as evidenced by the extreme scenarios found in the Oscar-nominated The Substance. However, where Coralie Fargeat's approach relied on overwhelming heavy-handed metaphors, Blichfeldt demonstrates a talent for structure and building tension. The climactic ballroom scene and the search for the true owner of the slipper create a visceral spectacle filled with discomfort, highlighting the desperate yearning for an embrace that remains out of reach.

      By shifting the focus from Cinderella to her stepsister, Blichfeldt encourages the audience to empathize with a character historically portrayed as a villain. Myren is an ideal fit, effectively embodying both the fleeting joy and deep sorrow of pursuing unattainable beauty, all for the sake of winning over a man who is merely a symbol for her. Though lacking a fairy godmother, the closest figure is a sexist, misogynistic character who provides a dress for Elvira. At first glance, these adjustments may seem like a revisionist, feminist interpretation of a time-honored story, but beneath its richly twisted facade, The Ugly Stepsister conveys a sobering message about the stifling limitations of female independence portrayed across many classic fairytales. These narratives, repeated through generations, aim to entertain and inspire children from an early age.

      Somewhat reminiscent of Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette, thanks to Vilde Tuv and Kaada’s anachronistic score and the elegant cinematography by Marcel Zyskind (which beautifully showcases the Polish castle and costumes by Manon Rasmussen, a regular collaborator of Lars von Trier), The Ugly Stepsister avoids the stiffness often associated with period dramas. While Blichfeldt occasionally leans too heavily into the gruesome aspects, this is a skillfully crafted debut that commendably finds unexpected sympathy within the downtrodden and overlooked.

      The Ugly Stepsister premiered at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival and will be released by IFC Films/Shudder.