I didn’t think it was possible. Before Disney took over the IP, Cinderella was a tale as old as time, and has been adapted probably a hundred times now, in different mediums and different countries worldwide. Even Kenneth Branagh’s modern take on the movie couldn’t give us a whole lot of new ideas on the fable. I guess Emilie Blichfeldt felt it was time to take the story back to to the continent where it started, and look at it through more fresh modern eyes. I didn’t peg the 2025 Norwegian take on Cinderella to be maybe the best adaptation, but The Ugly Stepsister’s perspective shift really gives the audience a set of fresh eyes to look through, and maybe a fresh stomach after throwing up a couple times, yeesh.
The opening beats you know, with some name changes: a widow named Rebekah (Ane Dahl Torp) marries a lonely old baron (Ralph Carlsson) who passes away instantly. This drives Rebekah and the old baron’s blonde beautiful daughter Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Naess) into deep mourning; not great for Alma (Flo Fagerli) and Elvira (Lee Myren), Rebekah’s daughters who were excited to meet their new family. Spirits pick up when a ball is announced by Prince Julian (Isac Calmroth), whom Elvira has been infatuated with for a long time. As such, she devotes her teenage life to getting ready for this ball, willing to win the heart of the Prince…by ANY means necessary.
I’ll never forget the first time I was organizing going out with a mixed group of friends. Having never stressed about nightlife prep, I was surprised at how pissed my female friends got when I got there and expected to leave in 20 minutes, saying they needed at least an hour of prep time. I learned that day just how much effort women have to put into their appearance and why “You look pretty” compliments from someone they like can mean so much to them. The Ugly Stepsister takes that process to the extreme: like we’re in The Substance: Middle Ages edition. Elvira’s diverging inner and outer beauty is a waking nightmare…with some real chuckles. Emilie Blichfeldt has some dark fun with the beginning, as our average looking but mostly sweet Elvira goes to Dr. Esthétique (Adam Lundgren) to get her braces removed and nose, um “adjusted” with precision blunt force objects not seen since The Simpsons. Fun, that is, until the sound design has us hear what’s happening to our ugly stepsister, at least through the screams. That wicked sense of humor carries as the activities get more and more visceral; Blichfeldt turns the lovely “it’s what’s inside that counts” conversation between a mentor/mentee into the most evil joke I think I’ve seen in the movie. Sure enough, Elvira does start to get prettier, but all those hard lessons she’s learned usurp her body literally and figuratively, requiring even greater lengths to hide these growing blemishes. The final 30 minutes Elizasue’s it up, and will have you unnerved, writhing in your seats, grossed out and heartbroken witnessing the results of a series of little decisions from warped advice at the expense of a girl who just wanted a boy to like her and her family to be happy.
So The Ugly Stepsister wasn’t pre-formed: she was forged in the environment she came from. And that’s Emilie Blichfeldt’s biggest contribution to a Cinderella story: historical context. She really thought through what life would have been like for 1 stepmom and 3 daughters to be married in Cinderella’s olden times, and the preformed beliefs of the 1950s animated movie characters actually take the time to develop in this movie. Rebekah, our stepmom, has status without maybe the monetary backing she was hoping for after the baron’s sudden death. As such, Rebekah’s only real options are bad ones, like getting Elvira and maybe Agnes married to rich men as she is no longer “pure” in the eyes of society. What resources she has goes to even more debt to make Elvira societally presentable, which the well meaning, low self esteem daughter agrees to. At the beginning of 1950 Cinderella, our princess is already a housemaid, cleaning up after the entitled brat rest of the family. In The Ugly Stepsister, Agnes’s (our Cinderella) path to that place is much more surprising, challenging the empathy we really should have for this character without removing it entirely. By the time we get to the ball, where we know what’s going to happen, our new perspective shows how that triumphant moment is laced with many other emotions instead, as we’ve become more invested in this grounded, more honest character piece than the fantasy service and talking mice we probably loved as kids.
So, parents, do NOT show The Ugly Stepsister to your young kids. But, if you have an older teen girl, really struggling with body image issues, going down the dark path of always choosing outer over inner beauty, maybe casually have this paused in your house and see if you can entice her to watch it for a little bit, and maybe rethink her life choices. Or at least NOT consider the horrifying ways to lose weight or fit into shoes, that will give me nightmares for months.