The Midnight section of the Sundance Film Festival is usual ripe with horror and thriller gems that endure throughout the year upon their release. Some of the my favorite horror films have their premiere at Sundance, so you can imagine my excitement getting to be on the ground this year and experiencing midnight films at the festival. Thankfully, “The Ugly Stepsister” keeps the hot streak alive, delivering exactly what you would want from a grim(m), gruesome body horror reimagining of a classic fairy tale.
The disney-fication of Grimm’s original work is nowhere to be found here, and “The Ugly Stepsister” emphatically reminds you that this is not the Cinderella you remember. All the frills and happy endings are completely removed, leaving only the darkest parts of the original tale in tact which is more than enough to satisfy even the most blood thirsty horror fans.

Written and directed by Emilie Blichfeldt in her directorial debut, “The Ugly Stepsister” or “Den stygge stesøsteren” in Norwegian (both the films’ origin and original language) is a reimagining of the classic tale told from the perspective of the oldest stepsister Elvira (Lea Myren). In a fantastical kingdom, Elvira, along with her mother Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp) and younger sister move in with her new husband and beautiful daughter Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Næss). The union is cut short when the father has a heart attack and it is revealed that neither party has the money that served as a motivation for the marriage in the first place. The Prince announces that he is looking for a virgin to marry, and the mother sees this as an opportunity to marry off Elvira. But she pales in comparison to the beauty of her stepsister Agnes, and paired with her own delusions of happy endings and determination, Elvira goes down a dark path of physical transformation, willing to do whatever it takes to be beautiful on the outside.
True to its title, “The Ugly Stepsister” feels very much like the ugly stepsister of “The Substance,” both championing the themes of impossible beauty standards and the lengths women will go to achieve them. Beauty is inextricably tied to success, social status, and happiness, and Elvira subjects herself to a multitude of mutilation to achieve this outer beauty. And much like its bloody relative, “The Ugly Stepsister” is a darkly funny satire of these constructs, blending the body horror with a tongue in cheek, laugh out loud approach that sells the vibes and macabre in a strong balance. It needs the lighter side of it all, too, because “The Ugly Stepsister” gets more and more gruesome as Elvira’s quest for outer beauty grows more and more desperate. There are some genuinely stomach turning scenes that are so gruesome it would make Julia Ducournau proud. Someone actually puked in the aisle during the premiere, so that should tell you all you need to know about what “The Ugly Stepsister” has is store for its audience.
Everything from a nose job performed by a coked out doctor (yes that’s as hilarious as it sounds) with a crowbar and a mallet to sewn on eyelashes with what I assume is a fishhook (performed by that very same high as balls doctor) to a tapeworm literally eating Elvira alive from the inside are all things she does in “The Ugly Stepsister.” There’s more too, but I won’t spoil some of the most gruesome mutilations you’ll see on film this year. Lea Myren is a terrific lead, balancing the dark humor with deeper and deeper desperation to be beautiful. She slowly but surely unravels, each attempt at beauty more extreme than the next. The makeup artistry and prosthetics adorned on Elvira to signal her transformation from ugly duckling to stunning beauty are excellent, “The Ugly Stepsister” once again proving that practical is always better. Blichfeldt shies away from nothing, expertly placing the camera in ways that are clearly meant to unsettle us and force the more squeamish to cover their eyes and groan in terror.
From a crafts perspective, “The Ugly Stepsister” digs deeper than its subject matter, delivering a film that excels in its cinematography, costume and production design, excellent sound work and a booming score that hammers home the fantasy and satire of it all. The sounds of Elvira’s empty stomach is both haunting and humorous, and her suffering is both empathetic and horrifying. “The Ugly Stepsister” isn’t bringing anything new to the table when it comes to critiquing beauty standards for women, and in a post “The Substance” world it raises the bar on anyone attempting to try. Blichfeldt doesn’t quite reach the heights of purpose of those that clearly influenced her, but “The Ugly Stepsister” has just enough brutality and gruesomeness to make up for anything it may lack in what it has to say. And the flood gates have been opened now for more voices like Blichfeldt to emerge and continue taking sledgehammers to the patriarchy and beauty standards. Women telling stories about women for everyone is on the rise, and “The Ugly Stepsister” bursts through the open doors with vim and vigor and violence.
I don’t get squeamish too often, and there are moments in “The Ugly Stepsister” that genuinely unsettled me and mad me audibly groan. I mean that as the highest compliment, and while it may get stuck in its predictability being that it sticks rather close to timeless source material, “The Ugly Stepsister” never stops being entertaining and unrelenting, and delivers on exactly what you would want from it. Beauty is pain, and “The Ugly Stepsister” lives and dies on that mantra in ways you kind of have to see to believe. It’s a wild ride, one that is not for the faint of heart or easily upset. It builds slowly but rewards you for your patience, culminating in one of the most grotesque fall from grace sequences you will ever see.
For those who seek these kinds of things out, “The Ugly Stepsister” should be next on your list and one you should definitely watch out for. Just be warned though, you will never look at spaghetti again, and you will definitely think twice about getting a tapeworm for weight loss.
Rating: 4 out of 5 Stars
“The Ugly Stepsister” has been acquired by Shudder, and will release in Norway on March 7th. There is currently no US release date or trailer available.