Cinderella: A Movie Review,by Bailley Wassing

            As I sat down and prepared myself with a cup of tea, a blanket and my cat to watch Disney’s live action adaptation of the fairy tale by Charles Perrault, images of the classic animation were running through my mind. Needless to say, I had expectations that this movie would indeed be a remake of the classic animation that I grew up with, but with actual human beings. I was pleasantly surprised. For one thing, the live adaptation of Cinderella was not a musical: there were no random song sequences that characterize many of Disney’s princess movies. With an all-star cast, including Cate Blanchett and Helena Bonham Carter, as well as some new faces, such as Lily James and Richard Madden, the film’s portrayal of the classic fairy tale is well done. Not only did this live adaptation stray from the animated Cinderella, making it a tale all on its own, it also kept just enough similarities to create the nostalgia of the animated Disney classic that I grew up watching.

In Disney’s live action Cinderella, there was more context provided in the film for the characters, giving more depth to the characters and allowing the audience, such as myself, to understand them and their actions. The stepmother, Lady Tremaine, is a prime example. In the animated classic, Lady Tremaine was just the woman that married Cinderella’s father and proceeded to treat Cinderella as a servant in her own home. The animation doesn’t explain any reason for her treatment of Cinderella. In the live action version, however, Lady Tremaine tells her own story: of a woman who married for love and had two loving daughters, until one day her love dies, leaving her heart broken and shattered. The next time she married, she married out of advantage to give her daughters the life they deserved, but that man also died, leaving her with a stepdaughter that represented everything that was taken from her. I couldn’t help but feel sad, that even though Lady Tremaine was not pleasant, she suffered a true heartache that created the shattered, torn woman who had known love and what it was to lose it.

The live action Cinderella also transformed the character of Cinderella into more of a heroine. Now don’t get me wrong, Cinderella is not the type of hero that slays dragons, fights monsters, and goes on magnificent quests. In this film, Cinderella is a hero because she follows her mother’s words: she has courage and she is kind. Cinderella shows kindness to others throughout the entire film. She is kind to the mice, sharing her food and protecting them from Lucifer, the cat. Cinderella is kind to strangers, giving milk to an old beggar woman without any thought, other than to help someone in need (Of course, this scene was a test by Cinderella’s fairy godmother to see if Cinderella was kind, which she passed with flying colours). Cinderella shows her courage by standing up for herself and what she believes in at the end of the film. She will not let Lady Tremaine control Kit (aka Prince Charming) and run the kingdom, no matter what happens to her as a consequence. She also shows courage by forgiving Lady Tremaine for everything that she has done—whether Lady Tremaine deserved the forgiveness is a different story. By giving forgiveness, Cinderella in this film shows audiences that you don’t need to slay a dragon to be a hero, but that anyone can be a hero as long as they are kind, true to themselves, and courageous in their everyday actions. 

All in all, I believe this film was well done. It captured and portrayed many moments from the animated film that audiences were looking for, while also creating a unique film of its own. The live action Cinderella also provided more depth into the characters, making a truly enjoyable film to watch.  

Sleepless Beauty, by Rachel Stubbs

Not so long ago there lived a mother and father, who said day after day: “Ah, if only we had another child!” for the couple had already four other children. Then one day, the mother gave birth to a baby girl who was so beautiful that the father could not get over his joy and held a great feast for his neighbours.

The father invited not only his relatives, friends, and acquaintances, but also the local Wise Women, for he wanted them to feel friendly toward his child. There were thirteen Wise Women in the kingdom, but the father had only twelve chairs for them to sit upon, so one of them had to stay home.

At the feast, each Wise Woman gave the child a magic gift: one gave humour, the second sass, the third sarcasm, and so on, until they had given everything an independent woman would want in this world. When the eleventh had spoken, the thirteenth suddenly stepped in. Being so mad that she had not been invited, the thirteenth cried out: “When she is eighteen, the girl will get her acceptance letter into university—and fail!” Then, without another word, the woman left.

However, the twelfth Wise Woman had not yet given her gift. She touched the baby and said: “I cannot undo this awful curse, but perhaps I can ease the severity. The child will go to university, indeed she will do well, but she will not sleep for four years.”

The father, wanting to save his daughter from such a horrendous fate, burned every mailbox in the county, much to the annoyance of his neighbours. Once the child was eighteen, she, like all of her friends, sent away her application to university. One day, the mailman appeared at her doorstep, carrying a letter of acceptance to a university; for, of course mail will find its way to you even without a mailbox.

That very day the girl moved out of her parents’ house and into residence, where she did not sleep for the next four years. The girl spent her days and nights locked in her bedroom, pouring over books and writing extensive and detailed notes. In the final year, when the girl believed she had finally figured out how to avoid comma splices, there was a knock at her door.

“What!” she yelled, , pushing her hair out of her eyes; for the girl was so thoroughly exhausted from her term papers she had forgotten to shower, and her hair was now sticking to her scalp.

“My name is Mr. Prince, Resident Advisor, and I have heard you have not slept for four years. I am here to bring you good news. Your graduation is next week!”

And so, the girl showered, crossed the stage, received her degree, and finally broke the wretched curse. After four long years, the girl reunited with her parents. They took her home, where she slept for a solid two weeks. The girl and her hard-earned degree lived happily to the end of her life.

die Bruder Grimm, by Caline Strach

Check out Caline’s Pinterest boards on five stories by the Brothers Grimm. These brothers are responsible for much more than you think.

The Stories We Tell, by Keltie Squires

I’ve always been surrounded by literature and stories. Growing up, both of my parents made sure of three things in my reading life—that they read to me, that there was never a lack of books and stories for me to read, and that my reading was never limited by my age. I am incredibly grateful.

            As a young, weird kid who read too much and struggled to find a social circle, I saw myself in characters like Anne Shirley—an eccentric daydreamer who didn’t always identify with the world around her.  Like Anne, I fell in love with stories of worlds that were nothing like mine. The Hobbit was deeply impactful on my 9-year-old imagination. Sherlock Holmes, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and The Odyssey were, admittedly, beyond my grasp at times, but I was still enthralled with the worlds in these books.  Star Wars was practically my religion. However, it wasn’t until I grew older that I started to notice a trend—these stories that I loved so much were not written for me. I was nowhere to be found in them. Women who were fleshed-out, independent, and important characters had limitations, or served the purposes of the male characters (cue Princess Leia in a gold bikini). More often than not, they didn’t appear at all.

The Lord of the Rings remained my favourite book for most of my teen years, and birthed a shameless period of FanFic writing among my friends and me. In hindsight, I can see what caused that—a need to see myself in the things that I loved the most. While it was acceptable for the men in the books I read to be smart, tough, witty, and diverse characters with human flaws and engaging character arcs, it was not the same for the women. 

            The older I got, the more I realized that what was missing in the books I read was also missing in real life. You could be the tough girl, but the tough girl was undesirable and unattractive. You could be the pretty girl, but the pretty girl wasn’t smart, and she was usually only a commodity to be gained or earned. You couldn’t be the smart girl, because for many men she doesn’t exist. To this day, men constantly tell me I’m wrong or question me. I’ve been snubbed in comic shops, even though I run a comic book club. I’ve been told I have bad taste in movies for naming my favourite films. Once, a man insisted to me that there is only one Deathstar in the Original Star Wars Trilogy (there’s two). My male friends never have this problem.

            In spite of this experience, I can slowly see the limitations beginning to fade away. In the past few years, there have been stories of women I could identify with—all my flaws and strengths included—but I could also see women who are my friends and family in the same stories. These are stories of women I admire. Notably, Mad Max: Fury Road. I couldn’t have predicted at the start of the year how much a dystopian car-chase action movie would mean to me. To see these women—disabled, pregnant, of all ages and races—saving themselves, and often the men around them, was one of the most powerful experiences I’ve ever had in a movie theatre. The image, ‘WE ARE NOT THINGS,’ written on a wall behind an older woman holding a rifle, is not one I will ever forget. Beyond that, who would have thought we would ever see a female Jedi? Star Wars: The Force Awakening gave us Rey. I would have loved a character like that when I was a child.

The dialog is changing. Diversity is something we talk about now in a different way, and it is changing our perceptions of each other.  If we want to continue to better understand each other, our struggles and our beautiful differences, then we need to keep striving for better representation in the stories we tell.