Cinderella Review: 2021’s Fairytale Adaptation Is Hollow, Bland & Cringe-Worthy

There have been so many Cinderella accounts that it’s frequently hard to keep the channel of them all. Most are satisfactory, while others are completely forgettable, made-for-TV movies that enjoy the familiarity of a particular story that has been over for centuries in some form or other. Stemming from a notion by James Corden (who plays a mouse-turned-footman in the film), Amazon’s Cinderella mixes the old with the new in a lyrical modification that tries to advance certain parts of the story. Written and organized by Kay Cannon (Pitch Perfect), Cinderella’s music is desirable, but it’s hollow, the achievements flat, and the dialogue frequently cringe-worthy.

Set in a distinctly ambiguous period, one that is distinguished by the old-fashioned town that is too hesitant to change, Cinderella attends its title personality (Camila Cabello), an aspiring fashion architect with a fantasy of selling her dresses if only she could escape the custody of her stepmother Vivian (Idina Menzel), a widow who understands how small a woman can have if she doesn’t play into her societal role (and also marry rich). During an excursion to town, Cinderella meets a poorly private Prince Robert (Nicholas Galitzine) — an unpredictable royal who often butts chairs with his father King Rowan (Pierce Brosnan) over his kingly duties — who offers to buy her gown before inviting her to the ball to meet others who might help her business intentions. The two are smitten with each other, but aspects are made complicated when Cinderella memorizes Robert’s depot and is later pressured by Vivian to marry somebody she doesn’t like to be with and ignore her fascination.

Cabello and Galitzine have no chemistry, which makes their main romance all the harder to believe or root for. There are no yearning looks and no charm to their connection; it’s something that needed to exist to make Cinderella work and to make up for the parts of the story that are lacking. Despite the songs and setup, the film is devoid of any romantic moments between them and the pair are better when interacting with almost everyone else but each other. Menzel and Brosnan’s performances are fine, but viewers have seen them do better in other projects, though the former does play Vivian with some nuance and she’s painted with a more sympathetic brush than previous iterations of the character. While Billy Porter makes a grand entrance as Cinderella’s fairy godmother, Fab G, it’s Minnie Driver as Queen Beatrice who stands out among the cast, elevating the material by exhibiting the many layers to her character. There is a sad longing and sparks of joy that are made apparent in her performance, one that rises above everyone else’s despite the thin screenplay.

Cinderella attempts to flip the script by sprinkling in progressive subplots — Cinderella has ambitions to be a fashion designer and not a royal at court, the prince recognizes he doesn’t want to be king and believes his sister Gwen (Tallulah Grieve) is far more suited for the role with her ideas to move the kingdom forward — but all of these elements are heavy-handed and cringe-worthy. The film would rather tell instead of show, with the dialogue doing most of the huge lifting to point out issues of sexism and the patriarchal system to the audience instead of exploring and engaging with them in a more meaningful way. Openly bringing up that sexism exists is only stating a fact and the film offers empty platitudes about empowerment without delving into who Cinderella is as a person outside of her circumstances. And this is true of every character, all of whom are one-note and ostensibly dull. What the film also lacks is an emotional core — Cabello’s performance isn’t strong enough to be the anchor. The film quickly loses its momentum and alters into an empty shell that is too hindering to the story to ignore. 

Camila Cabello and Billy Porter in Cinderella

The musical only works if one were to lean into the absurdity of it all and when the film’s script does that as well, there are genuine minutes of humour and leisure. This is especially true when Cannon’s script pokes fun at all of the nonsense — Fab G announcing that Cinderella needs help, to which her response is, “yeah, I was just singing about it minutes ago,” or Prince Robert very sarcastically asking his father what he and his prospective wife will even talk about until their deaths at the age of 40. There aren’t enough of these moments, but when they arrive, they’re a delight and a nice break from some of the more outrageous and monotonous aspects of the film. And yet, it doesn’t go distant enough. 

The directorial choices are ordinary and devoid of personality, with the overly bright lighting likely meant to earn the film feel more fairytale-like, though it makes for a rather dull aesthetic. The cinematography (by Andrew Dunn) is as overly sanitized as the story. What makes up for an overall one-dimensional story are the meticulously designed, gorgeous costumes by Ellen Mirojnick, which have allure and splendour while reflecting the movie’s more modern stylings. The old meets new vibes are prevalent in the film’s song intentions, a mixture of popular music — Janet Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation,” Queen’s “Somebody to Love” — with original songs like “Million to One,” which Cabello sings as the centrepiece, being an announcement of the film’s attempts at modernity. 

Unfortunately, Cinderella lacks the specificity of Ever After and doesn’t commit to the full fantasy of Brandy’s Cinderella, either, nor does it have the charisma of Ella Enchanted. Cannon’s film does emulate each of these adaptations to several degrees, though it has very little to say because its message is surface-level, dressed up to mask its lack of depth. The film very rarely kneels into the fun and its heavy-handed execution, mediocre performances, and lack of vitality make for an overall bland stare.