F*cked Up Fairytales
Snow White: A Tale of Terror
The Brothers Grimm
Well it’s been a rainy, foggy, dreary and gloomy week in my neck of the woods, which makes all of the bright, Spring-to-Summer-centric double features I have planned way less relevant. So instead let me embrace this dark, spooky weather with a double feature of fucked up fairytales. This may be my most redundantly-titled theme yet, though I know the goal of telling fairytales isn’t always to strike fear into the hearts of whomever is listening. Fairytales originate from every culture and country and continent that has ever been home to humans. Fairytales, folklore, fables, and myths are some of the oldest existing forms of both oral storytelling and the written word. They typically feature fantastical characters like princesses, monsters, talking animals, trolls, witches, and more often than not they begin with “Once upon a time” and end with a moral lesson or a warning to heed that manifests in the form of an ironic, sometimes cruel twist. Much like the term “noir” the term “fairytale” has a complex definition and categorization, and its meaning has morphed and shifted over time. Stith Thompson’s 1946 book titled The Folktale defines fairytales as such:
"...a tale of some length involving a succession of motifs or episodes. It moves in an unreal world without definite locality or definite creatures and is filled with the marvellous. In this never-never land, humble heroes kill adversaries, succeed to kingdoms and marry princesses."
New fairytales are still created today, with some of the most memorable or at least, cute, coming from the likes of Disney and other children’s storytellers. But the most classic and beloved and dread-inducing fairytales come from the Renaissance era of Europe, and were refined by writers like Charles Perrault, the Brothers Grimm, and Hans Christian Andersen. Fairytales come from the literal dark ages, so it should come as no surprise that these stories are often very dark—even when they later became sanitized and family-friendly, it’s hard to ignore the wickedness at the base of many of them. The real story of The Little Mermaid is horrific and tragic, as is the original version of “Little Red Riding Hood”, “Pinocchio”, “Cinderella”, “Snow White”, “Hansel and Gretel”, “Rapunzel”, “Rumpelstiltskin”, and “Sleeping Beauty.” If anything, the newer fairytales, from creators like Bram Stoker and J.R.R. Tolkien and Frank Baum and Roald Dahl and George Lucas, are less twisted, but they still add value to the large, ever-expanding canon of folklore. I’ve covered a good amount of fairytales on this blog thus far, but I’ve also covered a good deal of stories that are not officially classified as fairytales but have enough enchanting and/or terrifying elements to be considered honorary fairytales like Field of Dreams, The Devil Queen, Q, Yentl, Being There, The Devils, Desert Hearts, Badlands, Amélie, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Swiss Army Man, Perfect Blue, Melancholia, A Tale of Two Sisters, Bedazzled, Brazil, Black Narcissus, and The Handmaiden. Where the mystical and magical exist there is beauty and hope, but also a guarantee of darkness and supremely bad vibes, and I wanted to explore this further with a round of fairytale films that do not skimp on the scary shit.
Up first is a film that I somehow only just learned of, that has a superb cast and a devotion to keeping the creeps of its original story alive, this is Michael Cohn’s 1997 film Snow White: A Tale of Terror. This gothic horror originally premiered on the Showtime network, but it doesn’t feel like a made-for-tv movie at all. The set pieces are elegant and the violence and gore is so vivid that it earned this movie an R-rating, but I actually think it all could’ve been way more intense. This film had me at “starring Sigourney Weaver” but it takes a moment for this statuesque diva to arrive onto the scene. First we are shown a tragic horse-drawn carriage crash at the top of a snowy mountain, where Lord Frederick Hoffman (Sam Neill) is the lone survivor. His pregnant wife, Lady Lilliana (almost spelled correctly ;)) (Joanna Roth), breathing her last breath, hands Frederick a knife and begs him to save the baby. Dead mothers are so typical of fairytales and really… any story it seems, so while this moment was brutal, it was nice to even be afforded a glimpse of the woman whose death affects this story so much. We then cut to a few years later, and this baby has grown into a rambunctious little girl named Lilli (again, so close), who desperately wants her governess to tell her stories of her mother. These stories are cut short, however, by the arrival of Frederick’s new wife and Lilli’s stepmom, Lady Claudia (Sigourney Weaver.) But Lady Claudia doesn’t arrive alone, she brings her odd and mute brother, Gustav, a puppy to butter up the young and already wary princess, and a very large, very mysterious ornate mirror. The weird vibes begin almost immediately, and through the eyes of Lilli we witness Lady Claudia being very forward with her new husband and making out with him, with Claudia pausing briefly to lock eyes with her young stepdaughter. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized how much of the central beef in Snow White hinges upon an Elektra complex. Nine years go by, Lilli is now a teenager (Monica Keena), and Lady Claudia is even more brazen in her lust for power now that she is finally pregnant. The entire kingdom prays for a male heir, but the baby is stillborn, and Lady Claudia is not willing to accept this. She directs her gross brother Gustav to rescue this stillbirth from the trash, and this is just one of the many morbid moments in this mordant film. In her grief and anger, Lady Claudia of course blames Lilli, and is dead-set on getting rid of her. First, she orders Gustav to kill Lilli, but Lilli miraculously escapes and takes a tumble into the ominous and no-doubt enchanted forest. Lady Claudia doesn’t let her brother off the hook for this, and kills him in a truly upsetting fashion before she enacts her unwarranted revenge upon her stepdaughter. Alone and petrified in the endless woods, Lilli is relieved to stumble upon an old cottage, but what awaits her inside isn’t exactly the friendly dwarves we all know from the cartoon. In fact, only one of them is played by a little person, and the rest are all played by men of different degrees of height and scummyness. But because this film likes a twist or two, one of the miners who resides in this cottage is a bit of a hottie, who Lilli is immediately intrigued by—despite her dating a doctor back at the castle. Out of all of these marauding men, Will (Gil Bellows) is the least vulgar, disgusting, and rapey towards her, and our princess is increasingly charmed by him. After deciding to not kill her for trespassing, the miners go about their business, but their lives are threatened by Lilli’s presence thanks to her stepmom. Lady Claudia casts a spell that almost buries Lilli alive, and when this fails, she enchants the wind to rise like a tornado and bring large trees to the ground, which almost kills Lilli, but also fails. Finally, Lady Claudia appears in the woods, not as herself, but as an old, legitimately scary-looking witch, with the famous poisonous red apple in hand. Lilli, who just survived several Final Destination-esque scenarios, isn’t at all suspicious of this old woman, though, and bites the apple, just as she does in every version of this story. And if you’re familiar with the story of Snow White, you know that she makes it out okay, but this film throws even more at this princess than Disney-going audiences are used to. Snow White: A Tale of Terror is not as terrifying as I would’ve liked, but it certainly still disturbing, and would likely have really scared me as a child—which, I would say was the point of this film, but it was rated R, so I doubt enough scaredy cat kids got to see it and appreciate it. As producer Tom Engelman described it, "It's more like Walt Disney meets Fatal Attraction (1987).” There were a few creepy details that I loved—the freak-accident nature of the evil queen’s powers, the twist on the protagonist’s love interest, and the fact that the magic mirror bleeds when it is stabbed—but overall I wish that Snow White: A Tale of Terror had more to offer. Sigourney was diabolically delightful, Sam Neill was adequate, and Monica Keena did a fine job as Snow White (even though the role was written for Alicia Silverstone), but I wasn’t particularly blown away by this film. Had the chaos been more focused and the scares been more effective, this could’ve been a masterpiece, and the exact same thing could be said about tonight’s second film, The Brothers Grimm.
Maybe I’m still high off of my second viewing of Sinners—a movie that utilizes its protagonist brothers to the fullest, coolest extent—but I was immediately puzzled by the brothers in Terry Gilliam’s 2005 film The Brothers Grimm. This is a movie I’ve been wanting to see since I was a child, but I remember being torn at the time: on the one hand it looked scary, on the other hand, Heath Ledger is in it. This dilemma, combined with my nascent critical mind picking up on the negative reviews of this film, prevented me from watching it until now. (Ironically, though, I definitely would have liked this more as a kid.) The Brothers Grimm stars Matt Damon and Heath Ledger as Will and Jake Grimm, whom we first meet as little boys who are quarreling, because Jake has traded what little money they have for magic beans. This is the first of many obvious fairytale references, and before The Brothers Grimm is over, it really hits you over the head with these references. 15 years go by, and we’re now shown the older and only slightly mature Grimm brothers, as they arrive in French-occupied Germany, cloaked in black hoods and announcing themselves quietly yet powerfully to the town guards. The terrified townspeople explain the ways in which their community has been plagued by an evil witch, and the Grimm brothers, who claim to be monster killers, are the best ones to exterminate her. Along with one brave townsperson, Will and Jake trap and kill the fearsome witch, sending the townsperson on his way to tell of their victory. Except, there never was a witch, and the epic battle we just witnessed was nothing more than an elaborate scheme orchestrated by Will, Jake, and their employees (Mackenzie Crook and Richard Ridings.) Through a series of pulleys and ropes and snap boards and costumes, the Grimm bros and crew successfully fooled another superstitious town. I was surprised when they then decided to party with this community, rather than skip town to avoid getting caught, but what’s even more surprising is when they visit a town where the magic and monsters are very much real. It was jarring to learn in real time that this isn’t a horror movie, but rather a comedy that sprinkles in some randomly horrific moments, but what was even more jarring was the way Matt Damon and Heath Ledger played their characters. I’ve never seen Matt Damon play a womanizing douchebag with an inflated ego (not even when he plays a heightened version of himself in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back) and I’ve certainly never seen Heath Ledger play a loser (who doesn’t at least have edgelord street cred like the Joker) and this was admittedly, kinda hard to watch. Perhaps it’s because Heath Ledger died such an early, devastating death, but seeing him be the dorky, awkward, clumsy, downright stupid comic relief felt so. incredibly. wrong. Even with the bad facial hair and nerdy glasses they gave him, how was anyone buying that he’s the lamer of the two brothers? This detail cringed me out beyond belief, as did the performances of Peter Stormare and Jonathan Pryce—the French (non-monster) villains of this film. I say all of this as a disclaimer, because the greatest thing to fear in this movie isn’t a wicked witch or the early-2000s effects (which vacillated between genuinely freaky and embarrassingly bad) but all of the cringe-inducing writing. After doing research on this film, though, the messiness of it all started to make sense. For one thing, Matt Damon and Heath Ledger were originally cast in the other one’s role, but they petitioned to switch their parts. Additionally, Terry Gilliam had such a tumultuous time working with the Weinstein brothers (shocker) on this that he had to rewrite the script, interrupt and delay filming, and apparently treated the sole female protagonist of this film (Lena Headey) like shit because she was not his first choice for the role. I hate learning these things, especially about a filmmaker whom I admire so much, but knowing that the Weinstein machine was behind most of the discord on set makes perfect, depressing sense. For all of its disorganized chaos and unsuccessful comedic swings, though, Brothers Grimm was not nearly as bad as the reviews would have you believe. The premise is clever, the cast is stacked, the set pieces are fun, and there are legitimately frightening moments—particularly every time a child is kidnapped by the big bad here, it was done in pretty uniquely-terrifying ways. In fact, every time a monster appears in this movie, it is much scarier than its sometimes-forced humor would lead you to believe. Were it not for the casual cruelty and strong political commentary, I would’ve never guessed this was a Terry Gilliam movie, but even he admitted that he only took this job because it paid well (and later said the greatest regret in his entire career was working with the Weinsteins.) This is yet another film that I know I would’ve enjoyed more as a child, but it still has its freaky, frenetic, fairytale charms. This may be the jaded film critic in me talking, but we’re suffering from a whimsy scarcity in the current cinematic landscape, so the fact that this movie took big, whimsical, goofy swings didn’t particularly bother me. It made me nostalgic for this era of action-comedies and horror-comedies that were not weighed down by irony and desperate-to-be-cool-itis but were instead earnest in their attempts to purely entertain. Well if I talk anymore movie or fairytale nonsense I might just turn into a pumpkin, but I thank you, as always, dear reader, for following my meandering trail of breadcrumbs this week. Until next time, I hope you live happily ever after!
