They blue it!
Beauty is only ‘Cin’ deep in Disney’s outdated and boring retelling of the fairy tale
THIS “Cinderella” is all dressed up with nowhere very interesting to go.
Directed by Kenneth Branagh, the live-action reboot is bathed in a stunning Technicolor palette reminiscent of Disney’s ’50s and ’60s heyday — but seems to have skimped on the writing budget.
Even the great Cate Blanchett, as Cinderella’s wicked stepmother, is mostly relegated to mugging on the sidelines, albeit in a series of terrific green-hued gowns. “Let me tell you a story,” she spits at her stepdaughter toward the conclusion, and you find yourself wishing the whole film had been from her perspective, “Maleficent”-style.
But perhaps I’ve buried the lede: The film’s preceded by a new “Frozen” short, and it likely matters zero percent to legions of shrieking “Let It Go”ers that the sketch seems hastily thrown together. Still, I can’t help mentioning one really odd detail, which is that Queen Elsa has a cold, and every time she sneezes, tiny living snowmen fly out of her head. Which just begs so many anatomical follow-up questions.
Anyway, on to the main event: It’s not that Lily James (Rose on “Downton Abbey”) doesn’t make a fine Cinderella. She’s lovely, with an open-faced kindness and an ability to interact convincingly with the film’s four CGI mice — her only friends, after the early death of her mother (Hayley Atwell), then of her guileless, remarried father (Ben Chaplin).
Blanchett and the wicked stepsisters, Drizella (Sophie McShera, Daisy on “Downton Abbey”) and Anastasia (Holliday Grainger), stomp into the country manor, making bitchy comments about the décor, and soon relegate poor Cinderella (née Ella) to slave labor. But Chris Weitz’s screenplay never gives their nastiness quite enough zing — and zing is really key in a fairy-tale villain.
Richard Madden (“Game of Thrones”), as handsome Prince Kit, fills out the royal uniform quite nicely, if a little eyebrow- raisingly — his tight white pants recall David Bowie’s famously suggestive spandex get-up in “Labyrinth.”
He and James bring all the graceful romance they can to the first dance at the ball, which is where Branagh’s old-fashioned aesthetic really shines. In contrast, Helena Bonham Carter as Fairy Godmother has little to work with in her lone scene (“I’m rather good at shoes” is as witty as it gets). There’s more fun to be had, via digital effects, when the carriage races against time to get home before the magic wears off.
Derek Jacobi is a welcome sight as the aged King, as is Stellan Skarsgård as his unscrupulous advisor. And hey, that’s comedian Rob Brydon as the royal painter (I’ll expect a bit about it in his next installment of “The Trip”).
In the end, do we still need “Cinderella”? It’s a classic, but I imagine (or maybe just hope) the lessons girls get here will seem laughably retro: If you’re very mild-mannered and don’t rock the boat, good things will just magically come to you! It’s cool to have an impossibly small waist! There’s nothing better in the world than a great-looking, rich man who wants to marry you!
Still, when the princess-to-be gets back from her enchanted night at the palace, her first impulse is to run up to her attic room and grab a pen: “Ella couldn’t wait to write down every bit of it.” Perhaps Branagh’s film will spark a worthy new trend: princesses who journal.