Follows Elvira as she battles against her gorgeous stepsister in a realm where beauty reigns supreme. She resorts to extreme measures to captivate the prince, amidst a ruthless competition for physical perfection.
Chuck says:
Bearing more than a passing a resemblance to Coralie Fargeat’s “The Substance,” Emilie Blichfeldt’s “The Ugly Stepsister” provides a body horror spin on the “Cinderella” fairy tale. Adhering more to the original story told by the brothers Grimm, this is a harsh look at the importance society places on appearance and the continued marginalization of women based on their looks. It takes a swipe or two at misogynistic behavior and the hypocrisy of slut shaming, while also being a cautionary tale regarding the hazards of ingesting tape worms.
What with his extensive manor and grounds, Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp) assumes that the widower Otto (Ralph Carlsson) is well off. However, she finds out soon enough that’s not the case when he dies during their wedding feast. Creditors come calling soon after. Left with nothing but debts and a stepdaughter, Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Naess), Rebekka pins all her hopes on her eldest, Elvira (lea Myren). Prince Julian (Isac Calmroth) has announced he will choose a bride among the virgins in the area, four months hence and she intends her daughter to be his bride.
Far from being the beauty Agnes is, Rebekka brings in Dr. Esthetique (Adam Lundgren), a sadistic surgeon who promises to transform the young lady. A painful reshaping of her nose is just the first step of what promises to be a heinous, drawn-out transformation, one that not only affects Elvira’ appearance but her self-esteem as well.
Blichfeldt’s wicked sense of humor gleefully upends every aspect of the well-known tale. Agnes – the film’s Cinderella- is hardly a naïve, vision of purity, but rather a woman not above using her sexuality to advance in the stifling patriarchy. As for Prince Julian, he’s a boorish, sexist who’s far from charming,
Yet, the most radical, welcome change is the way Elvira is rendered and being privy to her perspective. Instead of a pampered, rude opportunist, here she’s a victimized young woman with no agency, nothing but a tool employed to achieve her mother’s mercenary ends. Her willingness to endure numerous incidents of self-harm in an effort to be seen as “acceptable” in the eyes of the elite, proves tragic as well as poignant.
The extremes Elvira goes to so the forgotten slipper will fit exceed those of the Brothers Grimm. Her willingness to mutilate herself – inside and out – speaks to her desperation to escape not only poverty, but to become the princess she envisions herself to be. This is just one way Blichfeldt skewers fairy tales conventions, embraced by those desperate to believe in a romantic ideal, only to doom themselves to disappointment for harboring unrealistic expectations.
As Elvira’s condition digresses, you’ll be forgiven if you begin drawing connections between this film and the works of David Cronenberg. Not only does what she endure become more and more disturbingly invasive, but Blichfeldt’s criticism becomes more pointed and sour. When a teacher reminds our tragic heroine, upon giving her a tapeworm egg to swallow, that “it’s what inside that counts,” the bitter irony of the situation is as delicious as it is incisive.
Unlike Fargeat’s conclusion in “The Substance,” Blichfeldt wisely resists the temptation to wallow in the excess of unnecessary gore and violence. To be sure, what Elvira endures during the third act is horrific. Yet, in focusing on the damage done to her psyche, the director delivers a more meaningful, moving indictment of the lengths we go to towards achieving and maintaining a warped sense of beauty.
3 1/2 Stars
