The story of Cinderella is ancient. The earliest version dates all the way back to Ancient Greece with the tale of Rhodopis. Over the centuries, it’s been reinvented countless times across cultures, each version morphing with the times. But the version most of us know best? That comes from Disney’s animated classic, a squeaky-clean retelling of the much darker Brothers Grimm tale, Aschenputtel. Ever since, Cinderella adaptations have mostly been riffs on the Disney version. That is, until Emilie Blichfeldt came along and brought the horror back with her directorial debut, The Ugly Stepsister.

We follow Elvira (Lea Myren, who delivers a powerhouse performance), the eldest daughter of Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp), a widow drowning in debt and desperate for a way out. In a last-ditch attempt to save herself, Rebekka marries Otto, a wealthy landowner with a stunning daughter, Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Naess). But the plan goes sideways fast. Otto drops dead on their wedding night, and it turns out he’s just as broke as she is. With debt piling up and no escape in sight, a glimmer of hope appears: Prince Julian (Isac Calmroth) is throwing a ball to find a bride. Rebekka sees her shot and orders Elvira, who already fancies the Prince, to become their ticket back to wealth. What follows is a full-on descent: painful, primitive cosmetic procedures, a brutal finishing school, and eventually, Elvira making the completely unhinged but somehow logical decision to swallow a tapeworm in the name of weight loss. The Ugly Stepsister is not for the faint of heart as Blichfeldt dives headfirst into the grotesque, peeling back the glossy fairy tale to expose the raw, disturbing truth behind beauty standards.

As expected, The Ugly Stepsister follows the classic Cinderella storyline. But this time, it’s told from the perspective of one of the so-called “ugly” stepsisters, Elvira. Elvira is a hopeless romantic who dreams of marrying a prince, but there’s one problem, she’s not conventionally attractive, and she knows it. That awareness makes her painfully envious of those who are. Most of that envy is directed at her new stepsister, Agnes, who eventually earns the nickname “Cinderella” after getting caught hooking up with the stableboy. This Cinderella is no saint. She’s rude to her new family and carries herself with an air of superiority because she knows she’s beautiful. Still, both characters are written with enough nuance and complexity to show that they’re not villains, but they’re just tragic products of the world around them.

Elvira is pushed to the edge, driven to madness and self-mutilation by the relentless abuse and impossible expectations her mother forces on her. The mutilation is brutal, unflinching, and makes your skin crawl with its bloody, unfiltered look at cosmetic procedures. It is graphic, it is painful, it is grotesque, and yet somehow society still frames these kinds of procedures as worth it. The body horror in this film is not some supernatural nightmare but something far more disturbing because it is real. Women have actually done these things to themselves just to meet an unattainable standard of beauty. And while I managed to stomach most of it, there is one scene involving a tapeworm that had me dry heaving, trying not to throw up right there in my seat.

Overall, The Ugly Stepsister is not for the weak. It is twisted, unhinged, and fully embraces its madness. A wildly entertaining and fearless directorial debut from Emilie Blichfeldt. This film tears the Cinderella myth apart, strips away the fantasy, and forces us to confront the disturbing realities hidden beneath the surface. It is not just another dark fairy tale meant to shock for the sake of it. It has something to say, and it says it with blood, discomfort, and a sharp sense of purpose. If Hollywood is going to keep revisiting fairy tales, this is the kind of bold, subversive reimagining it should be paying attention to.

My Rating: A-

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