For over a decade now, Disney has been prolifically reimagining their library of classic content from Alice in Wonderland to Aladdin. Love them or hate them, these reiterations often generate bountiful box office with only the occasional flop, motivating the Mouse House to continue lathering fresh coats of live-action paint on their past properties.
Artistically, though, these films seem to be dwindling with two of their initial and solid ones – Cinderella and The Jungle Book – now appearing as happy flukes. With each subsequent film, these pictures either mechanically imitate their predecessors, never establishing their own voices and playing as vacuous in the process, or simply lack the dramatic gravitas to justify their existence. Though Cruella, the newest film in this corporate trend, almost breaks out of this rut and matches the creative ingenuity of those two aforementioned films, it ultimately falls into the latter.
Emma Stone stars as a glamorous grifter and aspiring fashion designer named Estella, the woman ostensibly destined to become the nefarious 101 Dalmatians villain who sought to skin puppies for her devilishly fashionable fur coats. Scraping by on small petty thefts on the streets of 1970s London with her companions Horace (Paul Walter Hauser) and Jasper (Joel Fry), the meek yet ambitious Estella eventually garners the attention of terrifying, haute fashion magnate Baroness von Hellman (Emma Thompson), who affords Estella career opportunities but whose infamous past may invoke Cruella, Estella’s long-dormant, vengeful and harsh alter ego eager to burst through her stylish seams.
From its first trailer, the riotous Cruella has arbitrarily received comparisons to the bleak Joker, another villain origin story, but it really aligns with director Craig Gillespie’s other feature and Tonya Harding manifesto I, Tonya, which follows a scrappy, underprivileged woman battling her suppressed identity in the midst of a broken culture that constantly exerts toxic standards upon her. Both are more astute in their construction than their premises might suggest, neither condoning nor condemning the deeply flawed women at their centers.
Cruella is certainly revisionist storytelling, but Gillespie forges a fresh creative perspective in his changes to canon. Estella grapples here with a vocational ladder that is almost impossible to ascend because of von Hellman’s insidious, manipulative machinations, and that only compounds her fractured identity more. When Cruella begins to take the reins, she and the Baroness battle for industry supremacy with the sheer magnitude of two couture-clad lionesses, bolstered by the exemplary work of supremely cheeky, deliciously diabolical stars Stone and Thompson doing their best iteration of The Devil (de Vil) Wears Prada (the screenwriter of that fabulous film is credited here). This yields a more complicated character that is decidedly more modern than the original, whose villainy was partially derived from being a woman in business.
The film finds its stride in its first half with a decadently chic, dazzling aesthetic and a kinetic, sporadically psychedelic style that is irresistibly entertaining, and Stone deftly chews the scenery throughout, though she is utterly mesmerizing with an exhilarating fountain-side monologue. The collective filmmaking here bears fun mechanics steeped in foundational character beats and sumptuous eye candy displaying some of the most gorgeous, opulent costumes of the year. This cinematic experience thus far was admittedly a bona fide fashionista blast with minimal missteps.
However, as a revisionist tale, it inherently makes itself dependent on expounding the fractured identity of its titular character, and it begins to flatline when it attempts to do so, failing to capitalize on its strong former half.
The second half succumbs to dull, tedious plotting that is excessively convoluted for a film about a potential puppy killer, and it cannot seem to find the necessary dimensionality in its gray areas. It becomes clear that this alternate Cruella may or may not reach this level of evil, and the results are more sanitized than insightful. This film teeters on the darkness to fully delve into Cruella’s elaborate psychology and can only manage to skim the surface. This tenuous storytelling is frustratingly unfulfilling on a dramatic level.
Cruella is always gleefully flamboyant in its visual and performative stylings, but its deeper roots dissipate as it neglects to fully develop its central character. You can definitely revel in the physical splendor, but it gradually reveals itself to be surprisingly hollow, especially considering its pedigree. Even though this is summer fare, Disney’s latest should’ve taken more notes from some winter catalog items and adopted a few more layers.
Grade: C+
Cruella is now available on Disney+.
Photo Credit / Disney
