Folk tales of Cinderella have been told for centuries across the globe, but the Brothers Grimm version of the story emerged as one of the most popular for its particularly violent rendition of “The Little Ash Girl.” Norwegian writer and director Emilie Blichfeldt uses this read of the classic fairy tale figure as the foundation for The Ugly Stepsister, a gruesome and violent new spin on classic lore. Instead of whimsical romance set in the Renaissance, Blichfeldt gets graphic with the medieval torture women endure in their pursuit of happily ever after.

In Blichfeldt’s version, the little ash girl is Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Naess), a fiercely independent young woman with ambition and an astute awareness of how the world really works. Yet Agnes remains on the periphery of the story that’s framed from the perspective of her naïve new stepsister and romantic rival, Elvira (Lea Myren). Elvira dreams of marrying Prince Julian (Isac Calmroth), though she’s not quite fetching enough to catch his eye. Hoping to crawl out of debt through royal marriage, Elvira’s mother (Ane Dahl Torp) spares no expense or length to give her daughter the best chance to win the Prince’s heart. That just so happens to entail numerous barbaric beauty procedures.

Photo credit: Marcel Zyskind

Blichfeldt employs historically accurate medical procedures to great stomach-churning effect, delivering graphic body horror by way of unflinching surgeries and self-harm, all in the name of love. The filmmaker refuses to let her audience look away either; each moment of Elvira’s ruthless metamorphosis from an awkward, ugly duckling into a poised stunner is drawn out to an unbearable degree and frequently shot in extreme closeups. Beauty is pain, and The Ugly Stepsister wants you to feel it on a visceral level.

It’s not just the dedication to the gory transformation that impresses, but the way Blichfeldt adds dimension and new layers to these classic characters. The only true villain here is the society that demands impossible standards and casts aside those who don’t meet them. Even the wicked stepmother, though flawed and deeply selfish, earns some sympathy for the lengths she’s forced to go to survive. But this movie belongs to Myren, whose commitment to the role’s shocking physical demands is as affecting as her childlike, sometimes petulantly so, portrayal of Elvira.

It’s hard not to draw parallels to The Substance, a similarly themed body horror movie that employs fairy tale-esque stylings and humor to capture the impossibility of living up to society’s beauty standards. Yet they couldn’t be further apart in execution. The Ugly Stepsister grounds its body horror a bit more in reality and uses modern sensibilities to add complexity to reimagined classic fairy tale figures. Elvira is no longer the one-note bully to Cinderella but a naïve girl with romantic notions, one willing to believe that all she endures will be worth it.

Photo credit: Marcel Zyskind

Because Elvira’s transformation is so slow and painful, building to a suitably nasty finale, the ending feels curtailed in a way. It’s also a film that focuses on the character first and is prone to pacing lulls. But the production design is stunning and immersive, creating an almost ethereal backdrop to a grim, gory body horror tale, and the characters are wonderfully nuanced and authentic. Blichfeldt crafts an impressive feature debut that manages a rare feat: offering a wholly unique version of a classic fairy tale that we’ve never seen before while returning to its violent roots. It’s elegant, stylish, and gnarly.

The Ugly Stepsister made its world premiere at Sundance and releases in theaters on April 18, 2025.

Editor’s Note: This Sundance review was originally published on January 24, 2025.