REVIEW: Den stygge stesøsteren [The Ugly Stepsister] [2025]

Rating: NR | Runtime: 110 minutes
Release Date: March 7th, 2025 (Norway) / April 18th, 2025 (USA)
Studio: Scanbox Entertainment / IFC Films / Shudder
Director(s): Emilie Blichfeldt
Writer(s): Emilie Blichfeldt

Beauty is pain.

I built up in my head that Emilie Blichfeldt’s The Ugly Stepsister was a “Cobra Kai” variation on Cinderella. I’m not exactly certain why that is, but things did start to play out that way on-screen for a bit. Elvira (Lea Myren) is just a young girl trying to fit into a new world after her mother (Ane Dahl Torp’s Rebekka) remarries. And when her new husband dies, the child hopes to still cultivate a bond with stepsister Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Næss). Unfortunately, the latter doesn’t feel the same. Because while she may no longer be rich, Anges always lived like she was. She never wanted a new mother and siblings. She merely went along with it because her father was broke. It simply turns out that Rebekka was too.

So, when Elvira seeks to comfort Agnes in her grief only to receive bile in return, I prepared myself for this fairy tale’s twist to render the usual heroine into the villain and the villain into the heroine. It wasn’t long, however, before I realized that wasn’t Blichfeldt’s intent. No, things ultimately progress exactly as we know them to whether via Disney or Brothers Grimm. The difference, beyond spotlighting Elvira as our main perspective, is the light in which that progression is shone. Rather than present it as a fantasy come true for young girls to dream of becoming the trophy on a royal’s arm, Blichfeldt lays that patriarchal misogyny bare. Because that’s the true motivation behind such storybook romance: the desire to satisfy a man for survival in hopes he might satisfy you too.

This notion runs through the entirety of the film from top to bottom. It’s why Rebekka moves her “hopeless daughters” (Elvira and her hasn’t-hit-puberty-sister Alma, played by Flo Fagerli) so far away. It’s why Prince Julian’s (Isac Calmroth) decree for his ball demands “noble virgins” and not simply “eligible nobles.” It’s why Agnes resigns herself to pursuing the prince’s hand in marriage despite already being in love with the stable boy (Malte Gårdinger’s Isak). Why Rebekka weaponizes Elvira’s dream of being a princess to let her mutilate her body in pursuit of the sort of beauty necessary to earn matrimonial revenue. And even why the local finishing school’s headmistresses choose to beat autonomy and individualism out of their students so each becomes a docile plaything instead.

Therein lies the nightmare of what transpires. The malicious punishment of Agnes for daring to love someone on her own terms that labels her a “whore”—the age-old double standard wherein Julian’s friends want to have sex with everyone that moves while treating everyone who complies like trash for “allowing” it regardless of consent. The body horror Elvira endures at an esthetician’s chisel and by her own hand when deciding to go on a tapeworm diet. Rebekka’s self-prostitution to “pay” for all the classes, surgeries, and clothes she prays will make her eldest daughter palatable enough to recoup everything once she moves into the royal castle. And, the most genuinely entertaining piece of this cesspool, the monstrousness of men drooling with hedonism as animal instincts reign.

So, well it’s not quite what I was expecting, The Ugly Stepsister remains an intriguing re-telling via its shift in packaging. It also does the whole “what makes a villain a villain” thing that’s ruining Hollywood correctly by presenting how society creates its monsters. That doesn’t mean we must empathize with Elvira’s actions since they are still objectively cruel. We’re merely able to show her pity alongside our hate. And, similarly, we are able question Agnes’ motives when she proves cruel herself without forgetting that it doesn’t negate her own victimhood. Every woman on-screen is a victim regardless of their predatory, opportunistic, and petty ways. Because they are being forced into these roles by the deplorable men who refuse to accept them as equals. It’s Feminism 101.

And this look behind the fairy tale curtain is driven by an extremely dedicated performance from Myren. The physical comedy and horror she provides is unforgettable as she must constantly turn on a dime from innocent wallflower to empowered mean girl depending on how the world around her accepts her ongoing transformation today. And the gruesome finale is nothing without her crippling desperation. All that work and pain she’s endured to find herself needing to slide face-first down two flights of stairs says everything. Because it was never about doing what she wanted. Everything, even the poetic indoctrination of her favorite book (supposedly written by Julian himself) promising happiness, was about what he wanted. Elvira never stood a chance.