The Ugly Stepsister (dir. Emilie Blichfeldt)

by Jack Martin | Apr 24, 2025

Certificate: 18

Running Time: 109 mins

UK Distributor: Vertigo Releasing

UK Release Date: 25 April 2025

WHO’S IN THE UGLY STEPSISTER?

Lea Myren, Thea Sofie Loch Næss, Ane Dahl Torp, Flo Fagerli, Isac Calmroth, Malte Gårdinger, Ralph Carlsson, Isac Aspberg, Albin Weidenbladh, Oksana Czerkasyna, Katarzyna Herman, Adam Lundgren, Willy Ramnek Petri, Cecilia Forss

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Emilie Blichfeldt (director, writer), Maria Ekerhovd (producer), John Erik Kaada (composer), Marcel Zyskind (cinematographer), Olivia Neergaard-Holm (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

A young woman (Myren) goes to extreme lengths to impress the handsome prince (Calmroth)…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON THE UGLY STEPSISTER?

Once upon a time, some of our most cherished fairy tales were among the most messed-up stories you could ever tell your children. Sleeping Beauty, for instance, originally saw the titular damsel assaulted and impregnated with twins – all while unconscious. The Little Mermaid once ended with the prince marrying another woman, and the mermaid committing suicide by jumping back into the ocean. Not even Cinderella was safe, at least under the Brothers Grimm, whose version of the story saw the ugly stepsister effectively mutilate herself just to fit into that fiddly shoe.

The latter is what writer-director Emilie Blichfeldt seems to take the most inspiration from with her own revisionist take on Cinderella, as her film – retitled The Ugly Stepsister as per its central focus – revels in so much twisted body horror and psychological torment that even the Brothers Grimm would cringe with disgust. However, the Norwegian filmmaker also takes the opportunity to comment on impossible beauty standards that, like The Substance before it, goes to extreme lengths to show how even fairy tales are guilty of warping our perceptions of what true beauty actually looks like.

In the film, our main character is Elvira (Lea Myren), the 18-year-old daughter of the opportunistic Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp) who marries a seemingly wealthy man who turns out to be as penniless as she is, to where she can’t afford the caretakers to retrieve his body after he suddenly dies. Soon, both Elvira and her new stepsister, the beautiful Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Næss) – the Cinderella of this story – learn that there is to be a ball where the handsome prince Julian (Isac Calmroth) will choose his bride, but Elvira is considered far less attractive with her plain looks, braced teeth and crooked nose. To improve her chances, Elvira elects to undergo a painstaking set of routines that will make her more “beautiful”, including a brutal reassignment of her nose and – most punishingly of all – swallowing a tapeworm egg that will take care of those extra calories.

Those who know the classic fairy tale – and let’s face it, who among us isn’t aware of how this particular story ends? – can swiftly guess how things turn out. But the beauty (ahem) of The Ugly Stepsister is that throughout all of it, you do feel a great deal of sorrow for this character, who keeps punishing herself for not living up to the standards of others. It’s crucial that Elvira, when we first meet her, is not what anyone would consider “ugly”, inside or out; she may be saddled with braces across her teeth, but they barely distract from her adorable physicality, while she is initially sweet-natured and considerate of other people. Until, of course, she becomes consumed by what she’s been told passes for beauty in a world that shows no mercy toward anyone that isn’t an immediate stunner, with even the Prince himself (during a chance encounter in the woods) displaying signs of misogynist ideology that Andrew Tate would heartily approve of. It ends up becoming a tragic tale of a woman who is in her own way beautiful becoming the ugly creature that society already deems her to be, and Blichfeldt’s script – as well as Lea Myren’s all-consuming lead performance – really makes you empathise with her as she learns the hard way that appearances will, unfortunately, never be enough for some.

Blichfeldt also announces herself as a rather stylish director, applying elements like cinematography and soundtrack choices to her film that have it closely resemble the kind of European horror you would normally find scattered throughout the 70s and 80s. The synth-heavy score neatly juxtaposes the 19th-century courts and dresses as well as some of the more gruesome displays of bodily violence – much of it involving various maggots and other slithery insects – to where it almost feels like you’re watching a lost Lucio Fulci horror, while DP Marcel Zyskind’s slightly fogged lensing creates an eerie atmosphere that’s eating away at this pitiful protagonist. At one point, the film even becomes the most stunningly shot slice of pornography you’ve ever seen, with lighting and editing eliciting such an unexpected beauty (never before has a close-up of an erect penis been so genuinely worthy of an Oscar) that Blichfeldt manages to impress even further with a style that isn’t afraid to go in some truly provocative directions.

While the film perhaps isn’t as gruesome as its reputation suggests (enthusiastic reports of a Sundance audience member vomiting during the initial screening seem like a mild overreaction), there are moments where you feel yourself wincing from the nightmarish methods that Elvira is all too willing to put herself through to land the prince of her dreams. Therein lies the true horror of The Ugly Stepsister, for it takes a well-renowned fairy tale like Cinderella and, by simply changing the perspective, exposes a disturbing level of perfection that young women too often aspire towards, especially when they never needed to aim for it in the first place.

Doing so in a way that’s also highly engaging, giving the horror crowd what they’re hoping for as well as some genuine empathy for the tragic lead figure, Blichfeldt ends up making a movie that, while not exactly on the same level of overall quality as The Substance, imparts an impactful message about beauty standards and how, through all these artificial methods, there is no true pathway to a happily ever after.

SO, TO SUM UP…

The Ugly Stepsister is a highly engaging body horror take on the classic fairy tale of Cinderella that, in addition to some gnarly violence that would make the Brothers Grimm cringe with disgust, offers a compassionate tragic lead figure within a gorgeously stylish lens by provocative new filmmaker Emilie Blichfeldt.