Disney’s live adaptation is charming and true to its source material.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am no fan of Disney Princesses. That’s a girl’s world. Guys stick with video games and cutting down trees. None of that girly princess stuff.
So what was it about Disney’s live adaptation of their classic Cinderella that caught my eye? What did Disney do differently from their 65-year-old animated classic that I despise? What did they change? What did they add? What did they cut? What did they –
They didn’t.
The 1950 story that the world fell in love in is fundamentally unchanged. More or less, it’s the same story, albeit with live acting. Twenty years ago, this wouldn’t have stood out so much. Back then, adapting fairy tales into movies without fundamentally changing them was the norm. Nowadays, you’re more likely to see a live adaptation that is more mature, makes the characters more three-dimensional to do away with stereotypical heroes and villains, and so on.
Cinderella doesn’t embrace this revisionist theme permeating modern-day fairy tales on the big screen. It’s more or less the same story everyone fell in love with in their childhood (well, everyone except me, anyways). And that is what makes it so (forgive my pun) charming.
Despite not being changed fundamentally, there are a few tweaks here and there. The story’s beginning, which was relegated to pure narration in the animated classic, is much more elaborate, spanning, if I recall correctly, 20 minutes. But these 20 minutes serve as the foundation for the title character throughout the film. During this time, her parents treat her with great love and care, showing her the wonderful world she lives in and helping her to see the world not as it was but as it could be. While this whole segment is necessary to the film as a whole, it can be summed up in four words that form the heart of the film:
Have courage. Be kind.
The title character lives by these four words throughout the film, even when her stepmother and stepsisters are so cruel to her. Despite this, there comes a point when her courage fails her. “I don’t have courage anymore,” she sobs to her deceased mother. At that moment, her fairy godmother appears to her and rewards her courage.
Even though this film isn’t a part of the revisionist movement (I don’t really know what else to call it), I could see that the ideas of our modern-day big-screen fairy tales did influence some of the tweaking Disney did with their classic. The animals, which were featured very prominently in the original, are relegated to the side. This is somewhat for the better, as the mice, instead of being your cliche Disney whackos, are now Cinderella’s adorable friends, always squeaking, never speaking. Lucifer the cat, who consistently antagonized the mice in the original and was my least favorite antagonist, is now simply a grumpy cat. He antagonizes the mice once in the film, and that’s it. He’s gone from being a frightful thing to just being present, to the point where I honestly wouldn’t mind having him around in my house.
Good thing I already have a cat: a sweet one, at that. I’d rather not have a cat named after the devil. Who would?
Speaking of which, I don’t really know what to make of Cate Blanchett’s stepmother. The stepmother from the animated film was certainly cruel, seemingly giving Cinderella hope of going to the ball while secretly plotting to keep her from doing so. She indirectly prevented her by having her daughters rip up her dress. Blanchett, on the other hand, did the bulk of the ripping here. But it was the dress’ origins that made this scene particularly cruel: the dress belonged to Cinderella’s mother. This, followed by Blanchett’s adamance that Cinderella would not go to the ball, outclasses its source material by quite a bit.
In the end, while Blanchett doesn’t disappoint, she isn’t anywhere near as iconic as the stepmother from yesteryear. Either way, though, she’s every bit as detestable and cruel.
Then there’s the prince: dashing Prince...Kit?? Well, that’s what his father calls him. At any rate, he, too, changes little from the animated classic. He’s still dashing, kind, and willing to go to the ends of the earth to find the girl he loves. But he also gets much more personality outside of dancing, being dashing, and calling out, “Wait! Where are you going?” Here, he sees himself not as a prince but as “an apprentice.” (to what, I can’t remember) He doesn’t think highly of himself, and he is touched by Cinderella’s belief that courage and kindness are all that we need. After meeting her (before the ball, I might add), he can’t stop thinking about her. I’ll admit, that sounds pretty cliche, and it is, but I can let that slide by since I would probably think similarly if I met someone with Cinderella’s optimistic, innocent personality.
Oh, wait. I did.
One thing I actually miss from the animated classic was the interactions between the king and grand duke. Having more personality than the prince they married off, they created some of the funnier moments of the film, including my personal favorite when the king tried to knock the duke out after learning from him that the girl his son loves ran away. Of course, replicating such a scene live would be difficult, but I wouldn’t have minded if the king and duke had similar roles in this live adaptation. Instead, the king is the prince’s ailing father, while the duke is a diplomat with his own goals in mind. Still and all, this isn’t necessarily disappointing.
One of the recurring elements I noticed throughout the film is how the narrator, popping up every now and again, as well as earlier characters who knew the title character by name, always call Cinderella by her real name: Ella. Her stepmother and stepsisters, meanwhile, deride her with a name they meant as mean-spirited. While the animated film glossed over this detail, it gets elaboration here and becomes a symbol of sorts for our heroine’s plight. Throughout the film, it can be assumed that she always sees herself as “Ella.” But when the prince finally identifies her as the girl he loves, he asks for her name. Her reply was somewhat jarring for me:
“My name is Cinderella.”
Interpret this how you will, but I see here that our heroine has embraced her suffering instead of running from it or fighting it. In the end, this proves to be her victory. The allusion here is to the Christian belief that by embracing suffering, we find new life.
That’s not to say, however, that Cinderella is simply a passive heroine waiting for her prince to come and save her. While it appears to be that way throughout the film, she’s actually very proactive: she is actively kind to her would-be relations. While this isn’t the kind of proactive our modern culture values, Cinderella eventually reaches a point where she decides to stand up to her stepmother, refusing to help her in her ambitions, which could affect the prince, and asking her why she is so cruel, as she’s beaten her brains out trying to figure out why she is the way she is. The stepmother doesn’t answer.
Okay, so this film wasn’t completely immune to the revisionist movement with big-screen fairy tales. But it didn’t succumb to the mature, character-warping nature that we’ve grown accustomed to. Despite this, or probably because of it, rather than looking outdated as the odd one out, Cinderella shines brightly in our day and age. It’s an optimistic film with childlike faith that though the world may be a cruel place, it can be beautiful if we strive to make it that way. Cap it off with an anthem proclaiming the film’s main theme (okay, that pun was accidental) and we have a winner on our hands.
But to be honest, there’s only four words you need to take away from this film to really grasp what it’s all about: four words that sum up the essence of the film, and say all we need to know about it:
Have courage. Be kind.
Now excuse me while I go get my man points back…
3.5/5 stars