Norwegian screenwriter and director Emilie Blichfeldt explores the pitfalls of women’s beauty standards in this grisly inversion of fairy tale tropes, where an undesirable stepsister of this film’s ‘Cinderella’ figure must sacrifice everything in an attempt to become the bride of the local Prince.
★★★☆☆
It is both a blessing and a curse that Emilie Blichfeldt’s The Ugly Stepsister has been heavily associated with Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance. A blessing in that the film will receive far more attention than it likely would have otherwise, and a curse in that The Ugly Stepsister is almost certainly doomed to live in the shadow of its very recent forebear. It is a link that this film’s marketing has intentionally tapped into, with a punchy, flashy trailer whose audio and video content is very reminiscent of the five-time Oscar nominated film.
The Ugly Stepsister almost seems as if — like the eponymous substance of Fargeat’s film — it was created in a lab to add on to the cultural conversations spawned by The Substance. Not only is this twisted fairy tale a squeamish, unsettling work of body horror, it satirises unattainable beauty standards for women, gruesomely illustrated through a tale of a young woman desperate to overcome her natural physical features so she can win the heart of the Prince.
Protagonist Elvira (Lea Myren) might find her braces and the shape of her nose to be a hindrance (and that’s just the start of the cosmetic changes she undergoes), but at first they do little to dim her hopes of marrying Prince Julian (Isac Calmroth). In her delirious visions she hears him call out to her, proclaiming himself to be the one for her. Back in reality, she must confront the stark reality of her family’s status after the sudden death of her stepfather, with her mother Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp) losing almost all of her assets. Choosing to forgo a funeral for her husband, Rebekka funnels all her remaining money into Elvira’s quest to become more beautiful, hoping that this will entice Julian and grant prosperity to the near-destitute family. Because of this, Elvira winds up being pitted against her stepsister Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Næss) as they fight for the Prince’s affection.
Flowery title cards and slow zoom-ins might suggest a sultry tale in the vein of techniques and trends from ’70s cinema, but at its core this movie is visually in the process of decay. Viewers are trained to expect ugliness around every corner, where even Elvira’s dreams are too tacky to find any beauty within them. As her stepfather’s corpse rots in an unused room in this grand, stately home, one comes to anticipate moral and spiritual rot festering within most of these characters’ hearts and minds.

The film makes good use of its practical efforts in its more gruesome moments, though they occur only half a dozen or so times throughout its runtime. Even with their inclusion, The Ugly Stepsister never fully commits to confronting the pit of poor self-image, and more importantly, the invisible chasm that’s forming under Elvira’s feet the more she attempts to alter her looks. But where this film shines is through the conflict between Elvira and Agnes. Neither of these young women are particularly good people, but they’re also never truly evil, just bitter and slightly crazed from having been brought up in such a rigid system. They are practically groomed to figuratively (and sometimes literally) claw at one another like two feral animals thrown in a cage, where the pursuit of greatness — in this case, winning Prince Julian’s heart — is seen as being worth sacrificing one’s well-being and relationships.
While Blichfeldt deserves recognition for crafting such an intriguing tale, whose disturbing elements make for a tough watch that never seems like a one-note exercise in misery, it’s tough to nail down just what exactly The Ugly Stepsister wants to be. The conflict between both women is easy to understand and empathise with, but the visual stylisation and bitter, satirical approach to a fairy tale narrative never converge into anything concrete. The film is a hodgepodge of styles, whether that’s in Elvira’s dreamy, music video-esque fantasies, the lack of commitment to anything resembling a period piece, or the way in which any emotion that doesn’t involve Elvira’s helpless pining or destruction of her body isn’t given due consideration.

Alma (Flo Fagerli), Elvira’s sister, sees right through the ideals of beauty that this protagonist upholds, but she is forgotten for huge chunks of this narrative, then chucked into the fray whenever she’s needed to further the plot. Even Elvira and Agnes’ relationship feels incomplete, especially when the power dynamics between the pair continually shift.
The Ugly Stepsister makes for a constantly interesting experience, but its unbalanced tone and visual style leave little to chew on once the credits have rolled. Not that you’ll feel like chewing on anything after witnessing this film’s grisly moments.
The Verdict
Though this feature debut from Blichfeldt shows enormous promise, tonal inconsistencies ensure that the film doesn’t have as much bite as it demands from this kind of story. But for body horror fans or those interested in its compelling social satire, The Ugly Stepsister is a must-watch.
Words by Cian McGrath
The Ugly Stepsister is in UK cinemas from 25 April, and available for purchase across digital platforms from 9 May.
Support The Indiependent
We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.