The Ugly Stepsister

While stories of this nature often carry a myriad of meanings and impacts dictated by audience interpretations, I like to perceive it primarily as a critique of the beauty and fashion industry.

That very industry driven by self-interest, promotes unrealistic beauty standards among impressionable young women, particularly teenagers, and encourages gullible women to purchase costly products to be "attractive" so to speak or, more alarmingly, drive them to resort to unhealthy and dangerous methods for altering their faces and bodily structure.

The narrative also serves as a commentary on those parents who exploit their children's fame and financial success, steering them toward a path of self-destruction in pursuit of their own unattained and selfish interests.

A twisted take on Cinderella, The Ugly Stepsister is a Norwegian body horror flick that will creep you out through it's take on beauty standards and the level of extremity one can go to fit well.

The director, Emilie Blichfeldt did the same with 'The Ugly Stepsister' this year, with what was done in 2024 by Coralie Fargeat with 'The Substance', by showcasing the lengths one go to stay relevant. While it is far from perfect and the characters don't stand out much, apart from the lead; The Ugly Stepsister has abundant gore, amazing BGM and splendid performance by Lea Myren as Elvira that elevates the movie.

The director doesn't even hold back on frontal nudity of the characters in couple of scenes, and the third act of this body horror is equally disgusting to watch as well as emotionally draining; but for the advanced horror fans, this might be a treat.

My Rating : 3.5/5.

Seen this at the Berlin International Film Festival.

She was about to unleash the film on us, as the noticeably excited director finally exulted, having been brought on stage beforehand by the screenings moderator. The Cinderella tale was very close to her heart, and she almost spoiled the ending (more on that below). But first things first:

At the beginning, we still wonder, due to the emerging, subtly crude exaggeration, where this journey is headed... whether the film will find its tone. Yet another patchwork family coming together, a few centuries before today.

The penniless widow Rebekka moves with her daughters, Alma and Elvira, into the estate of a supposedly wealthy, older suitor, who has a pretty daughter named Agnes. Unfortunately, the hoped-for benefactor soon passes away. When it also turns out that this household has fallen on hard times as well, the newly widowed and aspiring social climber finds herself in a tough spot.

The prince of the county, meanwhile, is idolized by all the maidens for his poetry-and is soon to host a ball where he will choose his bride. A rivalry ignites between the initially haughty Agnes and the unconventionally attractive Elvira, spurred on by mother Rebekka, who puts every hockey mom to shame. After all, the pool of candidates is as large as in today's casting shows.

The audience may soon suspect: The daughter figures and the "evil" stepmother from the original Cinderella story seem here to serve merely as a foundation. For things appear to be taking a different turn, won't they? Who is the good one, who is the bad one-we recall the director's words: "The ugly stepdaughter, that was me." "There is only one Cinderella, we can't all be her."

Here, one feels pleasantly uncertain about how it will all end. It is crafty how Emilie Blichfeldt (both director and writer) blurs boundaries and plays with expectations, even as she does not shy away from clichés but rather embraces them in keeping with the genre.

The parallels to today, which Emilie Blichfeldt hints at, meaning that the whole thing can also be read as an analogy to current and burgeoning social dreams - are not as far-fetched as they may seem. After all, influencers, beauty ideals, body optimization trends, posing coaching, the excesses of cosmetic procedures, and (model) casting shows all promise dreams that rarely come true.

The drastic visual shock effects in "Den Stygge Stesøsteren" do not come across as mere sensationalism; instead, they powerfully illustrate the delusions of the characters: losing weight by ingesting a parasite, a nose job with hammer and chisel, self-mutilation... These scenes provoked intense reactions from the audience: vehement groans, followed by sudden bursts of laughter-even applause for individual scenes. Rare and strange.

And yet, it is simply faithful to the source: fairy tales have always drawn their effect from horrific deeds. The Grimm version of the story, as one can find, is by no means the only one. The Cinderella legend haunted Europe for centuries in countless variations before the Brothers Grimm-and later Ludwig Bechstein-shaped it into the form we remember today.

It is hard to imagine a better or more faithful adaptation of fairy tale motifs for a modern audience than what this film achieves-through adaptation, interpolation, and remixing.

From the earliest retellings of the Cinderella myth-beginning with Charles Perrault's Cendrillon and the Brothers Grimm's Aschenputtel, and later immortalized by Disney's 1950 animated classic this timeless tale has undergone countless adaptations on both the page and the screen. More recent live-action versions, such as Ever After (1998) and Kenneth Branagh's Cinderella (2015), have further cemented the story's place in popular culture. In parallel with these traditional approaches, a new trend has emerged: alternative reinterpretations of classical works. Notable among these is Percival Everett's James, a daring reimagining of Mark Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which challenges our expectations and invites fresh perspectives on well-worn narratives. The Ugly Stepsister follows this innovative path, reimagining the Cinderella story from a grotesque and an entirely subversive angle. In this twisted retelling, that recalls the visceral atmosphere of films like Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, rather than presenting a pristine, innocent Cinderella, director Emilie Blichfeldt introduces us to Elvira (Lea Myren), the so called "ugly" stepsister who despite the title is neither conventionally beautiful nor utterly hideous. This ambiguity makes the excruciating process of her transformation, aimed at impressing the ever elusive Prince Julian (Isac Calmroth), feel both ambiguous and absurd. We learn early on that financial desperation haunts her family: her stepfather's colossal debts, covered only temporarily by her mother's illfated financial gambles, have left the family on the brink of ruin, crippled and hungry for change. This bleak economic reality fuels the ruthless ambitions of her mercantile stepmother Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp), whose single-minded drive is to turn Elvira into a paragon of beauty and a ticket to social ascendance.

From the very beginning, the film sets a tone of moral ambiguity. Unlike traditional Cinderella adaptations-where the fairy godmother and the magical pumpkin carriage provide effortless routes to transformation-The Ugly Stepsister opts for a far more disturbing and visceral approach. The film is replete with scenes that verge on full-blown body horror: grotesque surgical procedures and physiologically unsettling imagery underscore the brutal lengths to which Elvira must go in her quest in a fairy-tale kingdom where beauty is a brutal, cutthroat business, to impress Prince Julian (Isac Calmroth), being led by desperate desire for approval and success, presented in whitewashed dreams, so fake and unnatural, as the electronic accompaniment to them. Her transformation is not an innate gift but an arduous, painful process that calls into question the very nature of beauty and success. We see her diligently practicing her dancing and perfecting her embroidery, suggesting that her newfound allure is hard-won and paid for with her own pain, suffering and deteriorating health. This contrast not only deepens her character but also casts the traditional Cinderella figure in a more problematic light, who is not the dutiful, spotless heroine we've come to expect-she harbors resentment toward her stepmother, haughty, arrogant and contemptuous with Elvira. Her beauty is a mere privilege she was born in, as is her nobility. The film even introduces a slightly provocative side story involving a stable boy, which further muddies the moral waters and challenges our preconceived notions of the Cinderella myth. The final touch to her viciousness is being added by the sole macabric remnant of original story ball dressing magic. Well, it's probably natural for the fairies to have early development stages.

The younger stepsister Alma, portrayed by Flo Fagerli, is a breath of fresh air in this twisted tale. Adorable and unpretentious, she stands out as the only truly grounded character amid the film's chaotic transformations. With genuine empathy for her older sister and a healthy dose of rational skepticism, she offers a much-needed counterbalance to the story's surreal excesses.

The film's visual style is striking, with Marcel Zyskind's cinematography capturing the surreal, almost carnivalesque staging of these transformation sequences. The soundtrack, however, is a notable letdown. While it (intentionally or not) attempts to echo the pioneering spirit of electronic remakes of classical music-a realm in which Wendy Carlos famously set the benchmark decades ago-the repeated theme quickly becomes stale. Instead of adding depth or evolving with the narrative, the overuse of this motif undermines the film's atmosphere, leaving a sense of musical monotony that detracts from the overall experience.

Overall, The Ugly Stepsister is an audacious, if imperfect, cinematic experience. Its intriguing premise and subversive take on a wellworn fairy tale are commendable, even as its execution occasionally falters between highconcept ambition and uneven production quality. Despite these shortcomings the film manages to spark thought and discussion, leaving viewers to wonder whether its flaws stem from a conceptual deficit or simply from the challenging task of realizing such lofty aspirations on screen. Final point down, those who are fainthearted could safely limit themselves to reading the script.

A twisted fairy tale where wanting to be beautiful causes the lead protagonist all types of pain. Elvira has lost all her marbles as she competes with her beautiful stepsister Agnes, and she will go to any length to catch the prince's eye. Good acting, and the movie kept me intrigued. The Director Emilie Blichfeldt kept the moving going, and the lead actress who played Elvira Lea Myren did an outstanding job. A Norweigan film, that I would definitely watch again. I felt Elviras pain, but greed, insecurity, and a mother's love got in the way. The comedy aspect had me laughing as well, I'll give it a 7 out of a 10.