Emilie Blichfeldt’s debut takes the Brothers Grimm version of Aschenputtel — the one where the stepsisters hack bits off their feet to force them into the slipper — and sensibly decides not to look away. It’s brilliant and disgusting in roughly equal measure.
Blichfeldt turns the fairy tale into body horror about beauty standards, male indifference, and the grotesque things women are pushed to do in order to be chosen. Lea Myren is superb as Elvira, enduring one hideous “improvement” after another while her mother bankrolls the nightmare and leaves her husband’s corpse to rot in the next room. Meanwhile the prince’s whole romantic method boils down to a foot fetish: he doesn’t care who the girl is, only whether she fits the shoe. What really gives it teeth is the shift in sympathy.
Cinderella is vain and sly, Elvira is awkward and desperate to belong. It sags slightly in the middle, but for a debut this is smart, nasty work.