Of all the Disney animated classics to have been given the live-action treatment, few are more beloved than 1937’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, a landmark feature that opened the door to a whole vault of canonical fairy tales ideally suited to the form. That, in turn, led to original stories, building the studio a vast, field-leading toon library and a legacy beloved the world over. If Snow White arrives accompanied by an echo chamber of overblown online controversies, that has zero bearing on the pleasures of this 21st century update. Even those with knives out for the movie might have to admit it’s no poisoned apple.
Having turned this particular form of brand extension and IP strip-mining into a subgenre unto itself, Disney’s live-action remake boom — which has ballooned into a full-scale explosion in the past decade — has been a mixed bag. Some are such products of the digital toolbox that “live-action” feels like false advertising; some flatten the quaint charms of tales hailing from less cynical times; some struggle to measure up to the unique magic that only great animation can yield.
Snow White doesn’t quite crack the top-tier, with Cinderella and Pete’s Dragon and the 1994 version of The Jungle Book. But it lands solidly in the upper end of the spectrum, alongside movies like Mulan, Beauty and the Beast and Cruella. That puts it a long way from such soulless efforts as Dumbo, Pinocchio or either of the recent Alice in Wonderland movies. Or, ugh, The Lion King.
The fuss surrounding the movie started with the casting of “not white enough” Rachel Zegler in the title role. Its flames were fanned by the opinionated star’s dismissive comments on the 1937 original, then again by her hostile reaction to Trump’s re-election (for which she subsequently apologized) and her pro-Palestine stance. The public was quick to cook up a feuding diva narrative when Israeli co-star Gal Gadot, who served the mandatory two years in the IDF, spoke out against antisemitism and advocated for the release of Israeli hostages in Gaza.
But none of that background noise matters in Marc Webb’s vibrant retelling, from a smart script by Erin Cressida Wilson that reshapes a story about a princess dreaming of her knight in shining armor into one in which she finds the courage to be a leader, capable of following in her noble father’s footsteps. That desire is expressed with passionate feeling in “Waiting On a Wish,” the standout of the new songs by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul.
If that sounds like the standard female-empowerment template that’s almost obligatory in contemporary fairy-tale retreads, it more or less is. But the incandescent Zegler sells it with conviction and heart. And there are worse messages to be putting out into the world via family films right now than celebrating the virtues of kindness and fairness over cruel despotism.
The one controversy that does intrude mildly on the experience of watching Snow White is the tricky decision of how to handle the “seven dwarfs” in a world where representation standards have evolved considerably. One can appreciate the challenge to the filmmakers of remaining true to a key element of the 1812 Brothers Grimm fairy tale without offending the dwarfism community. But although the talented voice cast gives the characters humor and distinctive personalities, their CGI renderings are, well, a bit creepy, and less photorealistic than many of the cute woodland creatures that flock around Snow White.
However, that questionable choice does not diminish the movie’s rewards; the dwarfs’ sweet interactions with Snow White, and the growing affection and loyalty even of crotchety Grumpy (Martin Klebba), soon make you forget the visual distraction.
Wilson dispenses with the backstory in swift fashion. Snow White was born into a kingdom on the edge of a forest, where happiness flourishes under the benevolent King (Hadley Fraser) and Queen (Lorena Andrea). Following the queen’s death, Snow White’s father remarries; her stepmother (Gadot) soon gets the king out of the way under mysterious circumstances, establishing her reign of fear over the kingdom.
The Evil Queen downgrades Snow White to maid duties. But when her magical mirror informs her that her detested stepdaughter is “the fairest one of all,” the icy narcissist orders her Huntsman (Ansu Kabia) to take the young woman deep into the woods, kill her and bring back her heart. The mask that speaks from within the mirror (with the sonorous voice of Patrick Page) is one of many homages to the animated original.
Wilson’s screenplay sticks to enough of the traditional plot to honor the lineage, while including sufficient departures to let Snow White stand on its own. Perhaps the most significant of them is changing the prince figure into Jonathan (Andrew Burnap), a commoner who leads a group of woodland bandits.
Unlike in 1937, family-movie romances more often now start on a playfully adversarial note, which is the case when Jonathan sings amusingly of Snow White’s “Princess Problems,” while he and his band are busy just trying to survive. But once word reaches the Evil Queen that Snow White lives, she dispatches the palace guards to the woods to bring her back, prompting Jonathan and his fellow bandits to protect her.
Ultimately, Snow White determines that she must face the Evil Queen herself and restore the kingdom to what it was, the goodness in her heart proving to be her most powerful asset. I missed the climactic chase from the 1937 film, when the dwarfs pursue the Evil Queen — disguised as an old hag, shortly after delivering the deadly apple — through the forest, cornering her on the edge of a cliff where a lightning bolt hastens her demise. But the filmmakers come up with a dramatic outcome for her that befits her toxic vanity.
Using her height to great advantage, Gadot certainly looks the part of the villain in Sandy Powell’s fabulous costumes — variations on long sequined gowns in shades from black through deep blues and greens and purples, with elaborate neckpieces, and in one case, a glittering iridescent train that looks about a half a mile long.
You might wish for a touch more arch campiness in her performance — along the lines of, say, Angelina Jolie in Maleficent — but Gadot is an imperious presence in lots of chunky power jewelry. There’s a welcome sense of her savoring her character’s malevolence in the Evil Queen’s song, “All Is Fair (When You Wear the Crown).”
Burnap is appealing as a more rough-around-the-edges love interest for Snow White, a rascal with a teasing sense of humor who surprises her by landing firmly on the side of what’s right.
Zegler radiates light and beauty in Powell’s gorgeous reworking of the iconic blue and yellow gown that just about every 5-year-old girl in the Western world has dragged through the dirt. And she conveys the princess’ fighting spirit not with exaggerated pluckiness but with a delicate yet firm sense of who she is and what her destiny holds. Her crystalline vocals make beguiling music of Pasek and Paul’s songs, even when they veer into generic show-tune territory. Her romantic duet with Burnap’s Jonathan, “A Hand Meets a Hand,” is especially pretty. Zegler also leads the dwarfs in a delightful carryover from the original movie, “Whistle While You Work.”
The other vintage song featured prominently is “Heigh-Ho,” the jaunty tune sung by the dwarfs on their way to and from work in the mines, a cavernous expanse of coal laced with glittering gemstone ribbons. The rollercoaster-like train that takes them into the bowels of the earth looks like a Disneyland ride waiting to happen.
Cinematographer Mandy Walker (who did spectacular work on Mulan, particularly in the epic-scale wuxia battle scenes), production designer Kave Quinn and an army of effects craftspeople create an enchanting story-book world that deftly blends soundstage sets and woodland locations with CG environments. The movie is alive with warm colors in the peaceful forest glades and the dwarfs’ thatched-roof cottage and draped in brooding shadows inside the palace or during Snow White’s terrifying first encounter with the woods.
Editors Mark Sanger and Sarah Broshar keep the pace zippy and the robust orchestral score by Jeff Morrow adds buoyancy or drama as required. Webb proves equally adept at romantic interludes, attack scenes and production numbers, notably the joyous finale, “Good Things Grow,” with the entire cast outfitted by Powell in resplendent white. Sure, those poorly integrated CG little people take some getting used to, but this is the type of wholesome and uplifting family entertainment that comes directly from old-school Disney DNA.
