‘The Ugly Stepsister’ Suffers Body Horror for Beauty in Twisted Fairytale Retelling [Sundance 2025 Review]
While no-budget splatter-house fairytale reboots like Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey, Cinderella’s Curse, and Neverland Nightmare continue to carve out a profitable mini-industry of uninspired schlock, it’s all the more refreshing to encounter an expertly crafted, thoughtfully executed fairytale nightmare-comedy like Emilie Blichfeldt’s The Ugly Stepsister.
Set in a fantastical alternate 1900s, The Ugly Stepsister shifts the spotlight to the familiar secondary character of Elvira—but at a steep cost. Desperate to stand out at a once-in-a-lifetime ball with Prince Charming, Elvira (Lea Myren) endures a series of ghastly, historically-inspired surgical cosmetic procedures and punishing rounds of body horror to alter her appearance. Blichfeldt is serving a morbidly funny exploration of unattainable beauty standards through a familiar yet stylish fairytale lens.
Meanwhile, Elvira’s traditionally stunning and recently orphaned stepsister, Cinderella, follows a more traditional trajectory. Martyrdom is her fate under the cruel rule of Elvira’s frightening mother until an angelic intervention propels her story seemingly toward an iconic fairytale ending. Yet, rather than diminishing Cinderella’s narrative, Blichfeldt uses her archetypal role as a foil for Elvira’s increasingly absurd struggles. This mirror inversion makes for a fascinating contrast: the story we’ve seen countless times playing out beside a much darker, inventive one.
Little victories pile up for Cinderella, including silkworms weaving her iconic powder-blue ballgown. But in stark contrast, demonic tapeworms bring dark miracles to Elvira. Consuming one of these creatures leads to Sam Raimi-levels of gut-wrenching mayhem by being both horrifying and unexpectedly funny. The Evil Dead-style sequence is one of many grotesque set pieces that turn Elvira into a spectacle of absurd misfortune with a slapstick disrespect similar to what Alison Lohman’s character Christine faces in Raimi’s Drag Me to Hell. Elvira endures nasty surgeries, monstrous parasites, and nightmarish 1900s-inspired cosmetic procedures. The blend of physical horror and biting humor ensures that her struggles are as entertaining as they are unsettling.
Blichfeldt’s film is never nervous about leaning into its absurdity. The contrast between Elvira’s grotesque journey and Cinderella’s irritatingly stoic rise adds a biting edge to the film’s feminist commentary. As Elvira becomes consumed by her quest for transformation, the film balances moments of sharp, uncomfortable humor with some shocking setpieces. The physical comedy of her misfortunes is cartoonishly clever, and the film’s underlying critique of brutally painful beauty standards keeps it grounded with consequence and depth.
What makes The Ugly Stepsister stand apart from its less ambitious fairytale-horror peers is its ability to weave this carnage into a more considerable feminist commentary. Like Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance from last year, The Ugly Stepsister uses viscerally disturbing gore to critique the unnatural bargains made in pursuit of beauty. Both films ask hard questions about the lengths women are pushed to in pursuing acceptance, power, and societal worth. Yet, where The Substance could lean into grim seriousness, The Ugly Stepsister usually opts for an even more comedic tone, making its bite feel accessible while also subversive.
I find it fascinating that The Ugly Stepsister, a viciously imaginative critique of women’s punishing beauty standards, premiered at Sundance just hours after The Substance received five Academy Award nominations. While the two films are vastly different in tone and approach, they share a meticulous approach to cinematic craftsmanship, outrageous gore, and gruesome feminist commentary. The timing feels almost poetic.
Adding to the film’s impact are its gorgeous production values. With the lavish period design, exquisite costumes, and authentically historic European estate settings, The Ugly Stepsister doesn’t exist for its punchline but revels in each step of its strange journey. Blichfeldt and her team approached this project with a love for the craft, ensuring that the film maintains a precise balance of humor, horror, and beauty even as the narrative delves into the grotesque.
This commitment to quality separates The Ugly Stepsister from the slew of opportunistic fairytale-horror cash grabs we’ve been overfed since Winnie the Pooh went feral in 2022. Where those films provide mild shock value and campy thrills, The Ugly Stepsister weaponizes its camp with truly gruesome watercooler moments sandwiched between bursts of glittering spectacle. Like its spiritual predecessor, The Substance, Blichfeldt’s film proves that horror is art.
The Ugly Stepsister had its world premiere at the Sundance Film Festival on January 23rd, 2025. It will be available to watch on Shudder later this year.
Suffers Body Horror for Beauty in Twisted Fairytale Retelling
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The Ugly Stepsister (2025)
Summary
‘The Ugly Stepsister,’ a nightmarish yet darkly comedic fairytale reimagining, serves up Sam Raimi-levels of gut-wrenching mayhem alongside a sharply macabre critique of the brutal beauty standards imposed on women.
