Long story short: the tale as old as time. Lady Rose loses both her parents, and then gets abused by Galadriel, her stepmother. During a ride in the woods, she encounters... THE KING IN THE NORTH! Who wears a blue hussar uniform and a white suit with a rapier... AWWWWWWWWWW!!!! Anyway, there's more than just the all-star cast and Robb in uniform here:
I was shocked when the stepsisters tore her pink gown (think, it was her late mum's!). As much as I was during the film. For I'm not fond of burying-my-head-in-my-lap style crying.
Madame Thénardier is a great FGM, ditto Xaro Xhoan Daxos as the Captain.
Clau-Clau-Claudius is brilliant as King Charming, a righteous ruler yet weak of health and a little too conservative, whose death of a heart condition, reconciled with his only son, moved me to tears.
Stellan, the greatest actor in Sweden, plays a convincing and conniving evil chancellor (with a ponytail, a goatee, and a widow's peak! And a bicorn!), whom I figure as the third Sir Tremaine (is Her Ladyship subject to the same curse as Margaery Tyrell?).
The scene where a pumpkin, rodents, lizards, and a goose become a carriage, horses, footmen, and a coachman features G-R-E-A-T special effects. So does the reverse transformation at midnight!
I also L-O-V-E the fact that Lady Tremaine, played by a splendidly manipulative Blanchett, was given a Freudian excuse.
Id est, a traumatic backstory. She needs a little sympathy, like any other good villain. And what turned her over to the dark side? She explains it in her own words, in third person:
“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl who married for love. And she had two loving daughters. All was well. But one day, her husband, the light of her life, died."
The demise of her first husband Sir Francis Tremaine, the father of her daughters, the one she calls "the light of her life". So she was brokenhearted, and she envies Cinderella because the maiden could get over her parents' demise, while Her Ladyship is still bleeding and in pain for the loss of a loved one that never would return (this trauma sounds much like Mary Eleanor of Sweden. Or, to put a male example, Robert Baratheon).
(I read a fic which explained how it may have happened: he died of a heart condition in his sleep, they tried to wake him up, but in vain! Awwwww!!!
("The wedding is wonderful, to say the least. She's in a frilly white dress finer than anything she's ever worn before; Francis had spared absolutely no expenses, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect. He's in a well-fitted black suit, which provides a marvelous contrast to her long, flowing dress.
When Francis finally kisses her, she kisses him back, and it's like the whole world is theirs for the taking. She's Lady Tremaine now; not only does she have a wonderful husband, but she's got a title, something she's secretly dreamed of ever since she was a little girl.
The wedding night is even more wonderful, which comes as a surprise to her. She'd been nervous about it beforehand, but she really needn't have worried; Francis turns out to be quite an adept lover.
"You're the most important person in the world, did you know?" Francis sleepily murmurs to her once it's over.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," she says.
"No," he replies, softly caressing her face, "I mean it. You deserve everything." With that, he falls asleep, leaving her awake, his words still on her mind. You deserve everything.
She ends up giving birth to two beautiful daughters. They look a bit more like Francis than her; they've got both his somewhat more rounded face and his slightly curlier hair, and she loves them for it. Francis adores them, too, as expected. The only thing she and Francis ever disagree on regarding the newborn baby girls is what to name them.
"I was thinking something more simple for this one," says Francis. "Like Anne."
"Anne!" Lady Tremaine laughs out loud. "That might be a suitable name for a peasant girl, perhaps, but for our daughter? Absolutely not."
"Well then," replies Francis a bit irritably, "what would you call her?"
"Anastasia," she says decisively. "I have always wanted a little Anastasia."
"That's much too exuberant," he protests. "Anne is short, sweet, adorable. Anastasia sounds like the name of a pompous duchess."
"Better a pompous duchess than a poor kitchen wench," she replies. He can't think of any good response to that, so the girl is christened Anastasia, and her sister is named Drisella soon after.
Francis absolutely dotes on the girls, and makes sure to get them whatever they want whenever they want it. It's a good way of life, though privately Lady Tremaine wonders if he isn't making the girls too soft; after all, if they are to find themselves really good husbands they'll have to be quite self-sufficient. Some years later, she voices this concern to Francis, but he simply laughs.
"Good husbands? My dear, they're ten. They won't be looking for husbands for a while yet."
"When I was ten," she reminds him, "I was managing quite a bit of my family's funds."
Perhaps he does have a point. Besides, it's already quite clear that Anastasia and Drisella are not quite cut out to be the working sort. No, they're destined for better things than that.
“I suppose you’re right, dear,” she concedes.
He gently kisses her on the cheek. “Don’t worry, darling. Everything is going to work out perfectly fine.” She nods and softly kisses him back, because he’s right, really. Everything will be fine.
Some more years pass, and life is quite affable. Lady Tremaine still worries about the girls and their apparent lack of social graces and skills, but Francis repeatedly tells her that they’re still quite young and will turn out fine eventually. He can be quite convincing when he needs to be, so she doesn’t argue.
They buy a kitten; Francis had never been much of a cat person, but he eventually relents after quite a bit of coaxing from Lady Tremaine.
“What’ll you call it?” he asks her, holding up the flat-faced lump of grey fur somewhat distastefully.
She scrutinizes the kitten carefully. “Lucifer, I think.”
The four of them plus Lucifer are a family; they’re not always happy, of course, especially now that the girls are hitting those years where they simply must have everything, but they all still get along quite well most of the time. Sometimes it seems to Lady Tremaine like the whole affair is too good to be true.
One day, Francis doesn’t wake up.
It’s a morning that starts out just like any other; Lady Tremaine gets up long after the sun’s risen (she was never one for early mornings), but to her surprise, her typically early-rising husband is still asleep.
“Sweetheart?” She taps him lightly.
No response.
“Francis?” This time, she shakes him a bit harder.
Still nothing.
“Francis!”
But he remains perfectly still. His skin is cold. Too cold.
Shrieking, Lady Tremaine runs out of the room, calling for a doctor, a medical apprentice, anyone.
Eventually a doctor does arrive, but instead of performing a miracle, he simply stares at Lady Tremaine with something like pity in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he says.
"What do you mean you're sorry?" asks Lady Tremaine, forcing her slightly trembling voice to stay calm. It won't do to go into hysterics. "You're a doctor. Do something."
"I—I am sorry, milady, truly, but it seems to be a heart condition. Your husband—well, he's been dead for a few hours now. I can't save him."
"You're wrong," she says, shaking her head vigorously. The doctor's lying. He must be. Hadn't her husband been fine last night? He had kissed her, told her how beautiful she was; in other words, he'd been very much alive. And now, all of a sudden, he simply wasn't.
Francis had promised and promised that he'd always be there. He'd said he'd be there when she needed him. But now, when she needs him most, he's gone. And he won't be coming back.
The girls, when they find out, fly into hysterics. For days afterward, they simply won't stop sobbing. Lady Tremaine grieves as well, but carries her feelings deep inside; she'll have to hold the family together now, and it won't do to make a scene. So she carries the terrible sadness in her heart, and the silent burden of it weighs on her every moment of every day.
They purchase black dresses for the funeral, and the girls complain about how unflattering the color looks on them. They're correct; Anastasia and Drisella's complexions are much more well-suited to bright colors. Lady Tremaine, however, rather likes how the black looks on her. She supposes it's a bit inconsiderate to be thinking of her looks when her husband is to be buried, but the whole affair hurts less this way.
After the funeral, the remainder of the family tries to move on from the loss, but the only one who seems to be able to fully do so is Lucifer. Lady Tremaine tries to manage the girls as best she can on her own, but they're much more demanding than she had previously realized. Despite that, she begins to think that maybe things will be alright after all. Maybe the emptiness in her heart will go away in time. Things will work out. They will.
In despair, Lady Tremaine tries to secure jobs for the girls, but it's no use; Anastasia and Drisella simply have no talent for that sort of thing. Francis’s infinite love for the girls had only ended up harming them more than he would ever know. What an utter waste love had turned out to be.
She searches for a job for herself as well, but she always receives incredibly judgmental looks from the business owners; after she reveals that she's a single mother, they always find a way to tell her we're terribly sorry, but you don't seem quite qualified for this position. It's ridiculous, but what can she do?
Lady Tremaine had always been a rather cynical person when it came to things like magic and whatnot, but she finds herself dreaming, hoping, praying that someone will help her, anyone. Or anything. There has to be something out there.")
For love hurts. I think myself that the Mary Eleanor or Maria Theresa backstory suits a wicked stepmother pretty nicely. Not everyone copes with loss the same way: some people, like Lady Tremaine or Robert Baratheon, or Archibald Craven (Mary Eleanor or Maria Theresa as well), are crushed by the loss of a loved one and will never face the facts. Some hearts heal faster than others, and Cinderella's heals faster than her stepmother. Throw the green-eyed monster into the mix and you've got a convincing catalyst for a start of darkness...
The very finale, with Cinderella forgiving her stepfamily before all three and the Grand Duke (Stellan) are banished from the realm (her third husband, anyone else?)... and marrying Kit in winter with the goose on the palace balcony... the coachman goose... Priceless.
The whole film ends with Ella and Kit looking at portraits of their parents. And the Tremaines in exile... at least there is a hope spot:
"“I’ve discussed the matter with her, and we’ve decided that although you have committed multiple crimes worthy of imprisonment—conspiring against the crown and grievous neglect, among others—you and your daughters will not be thrown into prison.” He pauses. Perhaps he’s waiting for her to thank him, to repent of all her sins. She doesn’t, however, only watches him carefully. There’s a catch. There always is.
“We’ve decided that deportation will be suitable.”
“Deportation?” repeats Lady Tremaine, throat feeling oddly dry.
He nods. “We will escort you, your daughters, and the grand duke from the kingdom tomorrow morning.”
“The grand duke?”
The king sighs this time. “He confessed to everything—said that you and he had conspired to make you a countess and give your daughters advantageous marriages so long as you kept Ella hidden.” There’s a stab in Lady Tremaine’s heart at the thought of what could have been, but she pushes it away. It’s unwise to dwell on such things now. The king continues, “Do you deny this?”
She briefly considers making a case for her innocence, but decides against it; it’s not worth the trouble. “No,” she says softly, “I do not.” The king sharply nods.
“Tomorrow the four of you shall leave the kingdom,” he says, rising from his chair. “It would be rather inadvisable for any of you to return to this kingdom, as you will be discovered and imprisoned.” His tone is light, but the words are deadly serious, and Lady Tremaine finds herself briefly wondering if perhaps she had misjudged the young king’s political abilities. He continues, “We will grant you adequate funds in order that you may start a new life in a neighboring land.”
Adequate funds? How on earth is a prince going to know the amount of money that a single mother and her daughters will need in order to live? But she holds her tongue; she supposes she should be grateful for this act of kindness.
The prince has made his way towards the door by now. He opens it, but before he leaves he says, “Lady Tremaine?”
“Yes?” she replies.
“Ella does not wish to see you, but she told me to inform you that she genuinely hopes for the best of luck in your new life.”
Lady Tremaine only shakes her head lightly, unable to believe the girl. For a moment, she considers apologizing, something, but she’s much too prideful and too bitter for that sort of thing.
Instead, Lady Tremaine simply murmurs, “Your fianceé is a much better person than the rest of us.”
“Yes,” replies the prince. “She certainly is.” His eyes light up again, and for a moment Lady Tremaine is reminded of Francis when he’d been younger, but perhaps it’s only her imagination.
They’re in a rather large carriage, the four of them; the girls are in the back, completely silent for what must be the first time in their lives. She’s sitting next to the grand duke in the front.
She’d counted the money; it’ll last about a year if they’re careful, but a year isn’t a very long time. One year, and they’ll be right back to where they started.
“If I may,” says the grand duke, interrupting her reverie, “you are very beautiful.” His gaze briefly flickers to where it should not. Lady Tremaine doesn’t dignify him with a response; she stares straight ahead, considers her options.
Maybe this country will be different. Maybe she won’t even need to consider marriage, because their money will be worth more in the neighboring land than it is here. Maybe someone will decide to hire her despite her status as a single mother. Maybe Anastasia and Drizella will find husbands. Maybe they will be happy, really happy, for the first time since Francis died—
No. She’s basing all her hopes on nothing, fantasies.
Maybe in the new kingdom there will be a fairy godmother, and the fairy godmother will say: I’m terribly sorry, but I only help the good and the kind, and you are anything but that.
For now she knows. Happy endings, real fairy tale endings, do exist, and they’re every bit as wonderful as the stories had made them out to be. Dreams truly do come true for the deserving, the kind.
Just not for her."
But what I liked the most were the SFX in the transformations and the costumes, from Ella's parents' modest attire to her wedding gown and the uniform Kit wears on their special day.
And of course, the star-studded cast.
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