What’s it about? 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.
Who it’s for? Fans of The Substance, Raw, or any stylish body horror with a feminist edge, admirers of revisionist fairy tales, if you like movies that make you squirm
Who should avoid? Those sensitive to body horror, if you prefer subtle storytelling, if you’re expecting a heartwarming Cinderella retelling, audiences who like a clear moral compass
Watch if you like: The Substance, Priscilla, Titane, The Love Witch, Raw
News and Notes:
Released April 18th
Premiered at Sundance 2025
Schmear’s Verdict: The Ugly Stepsister is a wickedly visceral fairy tale remix—equal parts body horror and beauty satire—that plays like The Substance by way of Sofia Coppola and somehow pulls it off.
Revisionist fairy tales are all the rage, and because of that, they’re all the easier to screw up. Luckily, Emilie Blichfeldt’s directorial debut, The Ugly Stepsister—a grim Grimm’s spin on Cinderella—is a resounding success. It’s like if Sofia Coppola directed The Substance.
This story unfolds from the perspective of the ugly stepsister, Elvira (Lea Myren), whose mother marries Cinderella’s father, bringing Cinderella—or “Agnes” (Thea Sofie Loch Næss)—into her life. The prince is still hosting his ball at the end of the year, and, naturally, the ugly stepsister wants to go—just as any young woman in this kingdom would.
And so begins a tale of some of the most disgusting body horror I’ve ever seen, paired with a very unsubtle—but powerful—examination of the beauty standards imposed on young women.
Blichfeldt’s direction is confident across the board. The costumes are a sight to behold. The location scouting is entirely immersive.
The cinematography from Marcel Zyskind has that Sofia Coppola-esque, Gen-Z-style aura—both intoxicating and deeply unsettling. The score, composed by Kaada and Vilde Tøf, is phenomenal—a mix of synth, jazz, and harp that draws attention to itself while also being ambiently gorgeous.
I focus primarily on these formal elements because the story itself is relatively simple. But thanks to its straightforward arc—fit for a child—Blichfeldt has the space to flex her horror muscles when it comes to women’s aesthetic "improvement," a theme that feels both timely and timeless.
The first (literal) crack at this is the barbaric rhinoplasty of our lead character, involving a steampunk-esque contraption designed to help her nose grow “properly.” The film only escalates from there, depicting increasingly extreme lengths in pursuit of beauty. The irony, of course, is that the prince is a total piece of shit.
Myren doesn’t have much dialogue, but she communicates volumes through facial expressions and physicality. However, in keeping her somewhat of a cipher, the film sacrifices her interiority. I wanted to understand her beyond her relentless quest to be the girl chosen, but that depth never comes.
Instead, Blichfeldt has an absolute blast with the details, especially in the fantastical elements—like a tapeworm egg Elvira ingests to start shedding pounds. This was made before The Substance, but the comparison is unavoidable, alongside clear influences from David Cronenberg and even a specific nod to A Clockwork Orange.
For as dark as The Ugly Stepsister is, there’s a gleefulness in its film literacy and in the way it subverts fairy tale conventions. The grotesquery escalates throughout, and while it starts off darkly funny, that humor eventually gives way to full-on nervous sweating through some brutally intense moments.
While its themes and stylistic influences aren’t entirely new, The Ugly Stepsister blends them into something uniquely visceral and affecting, both harrowing and a ton of fun.