Premiering at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival and set to stream on Shudder later this year, The Ugly Stepsister is Norwegian filmmaker Emilie Blichfeldt’s ferocious and fascinating debut feature. Starring Lea Myren as Elvira, with Thea Sofie Loch Næss, Ane Dahl Torp, and Flo Fagerli in supporting roles, the film is a body horror-infused, feminist reworking of the Cinderella tale. Equal parts grotesque satire and emotional tragedy, this 2025 movie rewrites the fairytale through the eyes of the character most often mocked and dismissed: the stepsister. In this film review, we explore how Blichfeldt turns classic folklore inside out—literally—and uses an unflinching visual style to expose the painful cost of beauty, the cruelty of class systems, and the corrosive effects of competition among women. Not for the faint-hearted, The Ugly Stepsister is one of 2025’s most daring and unforgettable films.
Genre:Comedy, Drama, Horror
A Familiar Tale with a Savage Twist
From the outset, The Ugly Stepsister sets its own tone, fusing fairytale archetypes with modern themes and shocking imagery. When Elvira, her sister Alma, and their calculating mother Rebekka move into the estate of wealthy widower Otto, it seems like they’ve struck gold. But Otto dies almost immediately, and it turns out he was as broke as Rebekka. Suddenly, Agnes—Otto’s beautiful, haughty daughter—becomes both rival and symbol of everything Elvira is not: elegant, desired, effortlessly admired.
With Prince Julian preparing to choose a bride at a royal ball, Rebekka seizes the opportunity to push Elvira into the spotlight. What follows is a series of humiliations, surgeries, and self-inflicted transformations that blur the line between makeover and mutilation. Elvira, at first sympathetic and shy, becomes consumed by her mother’s ambition and her own distorted perception of what it takes to be loved.
Lea Myren Is a Revelation as Elvira
In a performance that veers from heartbreaking to horrifying, Lea Myren is stunning as Elvira. She plays the character not as a caricature, but as a fully realized, deeply conflicted young woman. Elvira begins the film with hope and sweetness, dreaming of romantic ballads and handsome princes. But under constant pressure to conform and compete, she unravels—both psychologically and physically.
Myren’s performance evokes comparisons to Mia Goth’s turns in Pearl and X, yet her Elvira is more grounded, more raw. The physicality she brings to the role—whether enduring painful “beauty enhancements” or emotionally collapsing under the weight of unrealistic expectations—anchors the film’s wildest moments in genuine pathos.
Beauty as Body Horror
Director Emilie Blichfeldt takes the phrase “beauty is pain” to grotesque extremes. Elvira’s transformation includes dental removal, nose reshaping with blunt tools, and the ingestion of a tapeworm egg as a weight-loss solution. One of the most stomach-turning sequences involves a doctor sewing false eyelashes directly into her eyelids. There’s no fairy godmother here—only scalpels, sedatives, and cruelty disguised as care.
But while these sequences may shock, they are not gratuitous. Blichfeldt’s camera never leers. Instead, it invites us to witness the horror of internalized misogyny and societal control over women’s bodies. The horror is not in the blood and bone, but in the belief that these sacrifices are necessary for happiness, status, and love.
Agnes, the Anti-Cinderella
As Agnes, Thea Sofie Loch Næss brings a layered and ironic edge to the classic Cinderella figure. At first, she seems like the stereotypical beautiful, entitled rich girl—effortlessly outshining Elvira in every way. But as the film progresses, Agnes becomes more vulnerable and flawed. Her beauty is both her armor and her prison. She is not cruel, but indifferent. And in this indifference, she becomes complicit in the social hierarchy that lifts her up while grinding Elvira down.
Blichfeldt doesn’t position Agnes as a villain, but she doesn’t offer her an easy redemption arc either. Instead, Agnes becomes a mirror for Elvira—a distorted reflection of everything she wants and everything she can never be.
A Masterclass in Satirical Worldbuilding
The Ugly Stepsister doesn’t exist in a realistic world, but in a stylized, anachronistic universe where classical costume design collides with modern music and grotesque visuals. The production design is sumptuous and strange, with pastel color palettes that gradually decay as the story spirals into madness. Cinematographer Marcel Zyskind uses soft lighting and surreal framing to draw out the fairy tale aesthetics while still grounding us in a very real sense of suffering.
Vilde Tuv and Kaada’s score, blending contemporary synths with classical flourishes, underscores the emotional dissonance of the film. This isn't a world of hope and magic; it's a world of facades and performance, where every laugh carries a sharp edge and every mirror is a weapon.
Feminism Woven in Blood and Silk
It’s impossible to separate The Ugly Stepsister from its feminist undercurrent. The film critiques the patriarchal machinery that turns women into commodities, pits them against each other, and demands their suffering in exchange for social mobility. Every character—Elvira, Agnes, Rebekka, even young Alma—is ensnared in a system that defines worth by appearance and virtue by chastity.
Rebekka, played with icy brilliance by Ane Dahl Torp, is no simple evil stepmother. She is both victim and enforcer of the same cruel standards. Her drive to secure a better life for her daughters is real, but her methods are terrifying. The film refuses to let her off the hook—but it also refuses to dismiss her pain.
A Grotesque and Tragic Coming-of-Age
At its core, The Ugly Stepsister is about adolescence—about wanting to be seen, to be chosen, to be enough. Elvira's descent into obsession and self-destruction is both literal and symbolic. The tapeworm inside her is not just a horror element—it is a metaphor for the internalized hatred that devours her from within.
This is what makes the film so devastating. We know from the beginning that Elvira will not win. We know the ball will not end with a kiss. But we hope, irrationally, that she’ll find some peace. The final moments of the film are both cathartic and unsettling, leaving viewers with a sense of awe, horror, and bitter understanding.
Final Verdict – A Dazzling Nightmare You Can’t Look Away From
The Ugly Stepsister is not for the faint of heart—but for those willing to endure its brutality, it offers a profound and unforgettable experience. Emilie Blichfeldt’s debut is equal parts fairy tale and feminist manifesto, grounded by a fearless performance from Lea Myren and a fearless commitment to its grotesque vision.
This is not Cinderella. This is the story of a girl whose desire to be chosen leads her into darkness, and of a world that punishes difference with disfigurement. It's a film that dares to ask what happens to the women left behind in fairy tales—and dares even more to answer.
Rating: ★★★★★ (5/5)