‘The Death of Snow White’ Review: A Budget Fairy Tale That’s Part Theme Park, Part Gorehound’s Delight

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In the face of numerous criticisms, both artistic and politically charged, directed at Disney’s recent live-action “Snow White,” a demand for more violence, nudity, and profanity was notably absent. However, it seems someone did listen to this request, as now we have “The Death of Snow White,” a production that delivers these elements in abundance.

Jason Brooks’ film, while possessing elements of horror and operating on a low-budget compared to mainstream productions, strays from the typical cheap and joke-ridden slasher films that often emerge following copyright expirations or major studio releases, such as Mickey Mouse, Peter Pan, and Winnie-the-Pooh. Instead, it appears to be an exceptionally ambitious fan project, showcasing impressive creativity on a shoestring budget (reportedly only about 1/200th of the estimated Disney budget). However, it still seems to be in developmental stages, coming across more like a highly detailed cosplay creation rather than a polished production with its own unique style and original ideas.

The production delivers an amusing trinket that leans towards childish, action-packed fantasies, yet contains scenes unsuitable for young audiences. It seems tailored more for the creators themselves, as hints during the end credits indicate they had a blast making it. Atlas Entertainment will roll out in selected American cinemas starting May 2, while Horror Collective will handle its digital release later in the year.

Brooks previously directed the 2022 fan film “Friday the 13th Vengeance 2: Bloodlines,” where he also portrayed Jason Voorhees and other roles in similar projects, as well as handling special effects for these and other local indie horror movies, mostly produced near Seattle. “The Death of Snow White” seems like a lively, hands-on event for local genre fans, which has its own appeal but may somewhat restrict the viewer’s ability to fully immerse themselves in their imagination. Initially, it sometimes feels like a Renaissance Faire has been taken over by horror enthusiasts, and while their antics in costume are entertaining, they don’t quite create that transportive experience.

The story opens with a mysterious intrusion into a dimly medieval-style castle, where a sorceress, responsible for the deaths of guards, infiltrates to confront the heavily pregnant Queen Kelly Tappan. This tragic event leaves the Queen grief-stricken. Years pass, and both King Tyler McKenna and Queen are deceased, though their daughter Snow White (Sanae Loutsis) lives on, having miraculously been saved from her mother’s womb. Despite this, the throne is not in Snow White’s possession; instead, it is held by her wicked stepmother, known as the Evil Queen (Chelsea Edmundson). In reality, the Evil Queen is none other than the aforementioned sorceress (Meredith Binder), who maintains her youthful appearance through enchantments and the use of a magic mirror, which is inhabited by spirits that flatter her, albeit with biting sarcasm. Her beauty is maintained at great cost, including brutal practices that seem to have been inspired by Elizabeth Bathory. For instance, she bathes in the blood of virgins, and anyone who displeases her faces dire consequences.

In secret, she harbors contempt for naive Snow White due to common reasons, but needs to preserve her life temporarily for a complex route to power. When she dispatches merciless huntsmen, led by Brooks, to capture one of Snow’s friends, her peril in the palace is exposed. She escapes into the “Dark Forest,” where she’s rescued from dangerous woodland creatures by seven dwarfs who were exiled there by the Wicked Queen after faithfully serving the King. One of them is unusually large (Eric Pope as Tiny); another, Arsta, is portrayed by Ali Chapman, who had been vocal in criticizing Disney for using CGI instead of real-life little people in their adaptation.

They unwillingly take responsibility for safeguarding the princess, as the man she had been flirting with (Tristan Nokes) ventures into these same woods with a search party. Without a doubt, the witch concocts a plan to encounter Snow first, an apple destined for her in hand. The climactic action unfolds with the good forces invading the castle, where the evil queen is on the brink of achieving all her wicked objectives – at great personal cost to her attendants, huntsmen, virgins, and others. As is typical of this tale, it’s the performance of the villainess that captivates most, with Edmundson delivering an exaggerated portrayal in the most extravagant costume designs the department has to offer.

Despite being constrained by available resources, “The Death of Snow White” manages to look quite good given the circumstances. It boasts acceptable visual effects and production design, impressive wide-screen cinematography from Kody Newton, and a swift editing pace thanks to the director and consultants, which helps mask the somewhat disjointed story progression.

The script by Brooks and Naomi Mechem-Miller navigates a precarious balance of tone that doesn’t quite gel together, as it incorporates humor but lacks genuine wit. The acting, while generally competent, appears indecisive about the level of seriousness required. The comic relief, particularly from Milo Mechem-Miller and Christopher Burnside as Bill-and-Ted-like sidekicks to the Prince, doesn’t quite hit the mark; the same can be said for the effort to depict Snow, the Prince, and their companions in a light-hearted, contemporary youth manner, while at the same time presenting classic fairy tale romance. Somewhere in between lies the conventional “olden times” Celtic feel of Andrew Scott Bell’s original score.

Additionally, there’s an abundance of graphic violence, including decapitations, dismemberments, and eviscerations, accompanied by explicit language and numerous instances of female nudity. These elements are entertaining to some extent, yet they contribute to the impression that the work is a collection of popular ideas borrowed from other sources, rather than a unique, imaginative creation. Occasionally, the references are so overt that they border on tribute, as in a late reference to “Romeo and Juliet.” In other instances, it seems more like a haphazard assemblage of pieces.

The movie seems reminiscent of low-budget children’s tales from the 1960s, often criticized for their distorted adaptations of foreign stories, and also brings to mind the less successful sword-and-sorcery sequels that appeared after “Excalibur” and “Conan the Barbarian” in the 1980s. However, compared to many other Z-grade fantasies, it moves at a faster pace. Yet, there’s a certain amateurish feel to it that makes it difficult for the audience to fully immerse themselves.

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2025-05-02 08:17