- Cate Blanchett (center) in Cinderella; the magisterial costumes are by Sandy Powell
I’m not sure if children are going to enjoy Disney’s new live-action version of Cinderella, which opens in wide release today. It’s a subtle film, marked by greater consideration for psychology and decor than one typically finds in children’s entertainment. Barring the broadly comic performances of Helena Bonham Carter (who turns in a cameo as the fairy godmother) and Sophie McShera and Holliday Grainger (who play the wicked stepsisters)—not to mention the presence of some anthropomorphized mice held over from the 1950 animated original—the characters are introspective and the performances are reserved. The production design (by Dante Ferretti, whose credits include Pasolini’s Salo and numerous films by Fellini and Scorsese) and Sandy Powell’s costumes are similarly refined. The color schemes seem to have been modeled after the rich hues of 1940s and ’50s Technicolor, while much of the meticulous detail suggest a visual report on late-Renaissance-era Europe. The average shot length, moreover, is decidedly longer than that of most recent Hollywood spectacles—at times the movie feels like a guided tour of a museum.
- Cinderella and the Prince, meeting as equals.
In this film, for instance, the Prince is a progressive politician who comes to issue democratic reforms. He’s less interested in military glory than in spreading prosperity at home—his pursuit of Cinderella, a commoner, mirrors his political commitment to the middle class. Cinderella first meets the Prince before the ball, while he’s on a hunt in the woods. Embarrassed by his royal privilege, he introduces himself as Kit, hoping to pass as her equal. Their subsequent meeting at the ball continues the tone of the first, even though the Prince doesn’t recognize Cinderella as the girl from the woods.
