Hidden under the hopefulness of a rags-to-riches Cinderella story has always been a poisonous jealousy and greed. So many versions exist and whether you are familiar with Perrault’s introduction of the glass slippers, the wickedness of the Brothers Grimm retelling, or simply a fan of the whimsy of Disney’s film adaptation, the tale typically follows a beautiful and kind young woman stuck in the clutches of her evil stepmother and stepsisters, forced into servitude after the passing of her father. Emilie Blichfeldt’s feature debut is a grotesque re-telling of this beloved fairytale. The Ugly Stepsister is twisted beyond recognition to reveal the beauty and the nastiness that we all carry inside.
As the title suggests, the film’s focus is shifted away from the token ash-covered maiden to the “ugly” stepsister, Elvira (Lea Myren), and Blichfeldt is careful to treat this character with more depth than ever before. Unique from previous depictions of any of Cinderella’s new siblings, Elvira is a quiet and insecure girl who spends her time reading poetry and dreaming of princes. She is actually eager to connect with her new stepsister, who embodies everything she wishes to be, so much so that she even extends to her words of kindness after her father’s passing. Right from the jump, it is clear that any expectations viewers may have coming into a horror re-hashing of this story will quickly be subverted.
What adds nuance to this version is that the greed and shallowness typically afforded to the evil stepmother and stepsisters is matched by all the players of this tale. The good and pure Cinderella herself is anything but. This subversion challenges the line drawn in many fairy tales between morality and physical beauty and brings into question the perceived ugliness of the villains we grew up watching–while still managing to be more interesting than a simple moral swap that has become the default of many reimaginings from recent years. Elvira’s quest to make her outer appearance match the beauty of her heart helps highlight the ugliness that exists in those around her–however, as much as she distorts her image, she distorts the person she was before.
The Ugly Stepsister’s exploration of the insecurities young women feel is pertinent and modern, while using the stylish trimmings of a fairytale. The frilly and corseted costuming (gorgeously executed by Manon Rasmussen) and bouncy curled updos may be a far cry from modern fashion sensibilities but Elvira’s concerns about attributes like the shape of her nose and the shapeliness of her body are still all too relatable. The inventive techniques used by Dr. Esthétique introduces flinchingly painful body horror elements in a way that highlights the archaic nature of the modifications we still employ. Elvira’s transformation is fueled not only by the vanity of her harsh mother but everyone around her who value only the physical appearances of others.
Blichfeldt’s The Ugly Stepsister is the most original and jaw-dropping horror reimagining to grace our screens as of late. No amount of mutilation is off limits in the quest for beauty and the visual effects will chisel their way under your skin. Visceral body horror is splattered upon Marcel Zyskind’s dreamy cinematography, making for an astonishing satirization of the relationships we have to our body image. This tale ends not with happily ever afters but with worms and maggots.
Siren Death Cult 