It's hard to walk out of this movie without feeling "good" about yourself, but it's also just as hard to pinpoint anything that makes the damn thing worthwhile. Sure, it's entertaining. Sure, it's pretty and cute and funny and sweet. Sure, we all wish we had a guardian fairy to dress us up in beautiful clothes so we can escape our miserable lives and have an impossible romance come true. But we've had this narrative for centuries, and frankly I don't understand why any self-aggrandizing artist (Kenneth Branagh, I'm looking at you) would want to touch this moldy material without putting some kind of new twist or flair on it.
The Cinderella story has been adapted into countless media, with different audiences in mind, and with many different contexts. Context is crucial to any successful iteration of the tale, because as most of us know, the story has some serious problems. I'm not saying it's not an effective fantasy, but too often the story caters to a very mainstream, hegemonic culture, which is probably why it remains one of the staples of our culture now. We can probably count on one hand the number of direct Cinderella adaptations that feature people of color. We haven't seen one yet in the mainstream that features anything but a cis, hetero romance. And I've maybe only seen one production that doesn't glorify materialism and the absurdly wealthy.
So I don't think it's too much to ask that this adaptation might have had some kind of useful spin on feminist rhetoric (Ever After), the politics of monarchy (Ella Enchanted), or varied ethnicities (Disney's 1997 television film of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella). Even last season's Into the Woods featured a Cinderella who actively chooses to escape her surroundings and venture into the woods, uses her kindness and resourcefulness to better herself and those around her, and to make a conscious decision to reject her womanizing husband and thereby forsake a life of wealth and comfort. With these in mind, it's really hard to like much of anything about Branagh's new picture, which is simply a lavish-but-empty direct translation of Disney's 1950 animated film.
There are exactly two and a half valuable things about this film. First, the costumes are killer. Second, what's not to like about such a fabulous cast flouncing around like a dream? And third(ish), some of the music is rather lovely. That's it. The special effects are beyond overblown (remember Maleficent, anybody?) and take away even the slightest traces of real drama. The sets are lovely, but don't make much sense; Ella's family lives in a veritable castle in its own right, so it's hard to believe their cries of destitution and ruin when every scene shows them in a house many real people would kill to spend even a night in, all while wearing obviously expensive, gaudy clothes. Worst, though, is the script: I have not heard such vague, uninspired blather since I was riding mass transit in Chicago.
Don't believe me? Take the climax for example. Ella climbs to her attic-bedroom and opens the door. Dappled sunlight sparkles on the contours of her glass shoe, as her malevolent stepmother leers out of the shadows beyond. It's a beautiful image, and one in which the drama of the film seems finally to shine. Ella asks her stepmother, point blank, why she hates Ella so much, and my throat tightened in anticipation of a profound revelation or shocking delivery from Cate Blanchett. And all we get is a clenched cliché about Ella being too good, too pure, too innocent (the exact line escapes me because I was grinding my teeth in frustration) before she breaks off in mid-sentence and stalks away. What an absolute waste of talented actors and a beautiful scene.
I'm not going to pretend I don't find parts funny, sweet, or sentimental. In fact, one of the best scenes involves Ella's dying mother (played by our beloved Agent Carter, Hayley Atwell) giving some of the world's best advice to her young daughter. Another involves our Prince (handsome and talented Richard Madden) making his peace with his father (handsome and talented Derek Jacobi) on the latter's deathbed, before curling up next to him. And yes, okay, I fell victim to the rush of happiness when the damn shoe fits and everyone claps and smiles and kisses and sings and does whatever people do when their monarch falls in love with the little blonde help. But besides those few moments, and of course watching my goddess Cate swishing around in elegant (if bizarre) getup, most of this dull retelling have already passed effortlessly out of my head. And for that I can be truly thankful.
IMDb: Cinderella
P.S. Just a few parting thoughts. Courtesy Google Images, under "Feminist Cinderella".
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