Snow White and the Many Retellings
For as long as there have been fairy tales (hint: forever), storytellers have been tweaking them to suit the tastes of their audiences. Blockbuster "epic re-imaginings" of fairy tales are a 21st century thing, but it's never not been a trend to retell a fairy tale in some "modern" fashion. In fact, the versions collected by the Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault are likely just the most popular (or most recent) versions of stories that were retold in countless ways. And while "Snow White and the Huntsman" is the newest example of this age-old practice, it's also the latest incarnation of Hollywood's long love affair with remaking Snow White.
Cinderella has enjoyed more than her fair share of remakes both feminist and fluffy (it seems as though every starlet stars in some rags-to-riches romance), but it's Snow White who has been subject to the most extreme makeovers. Screenwriters can't seem to resist taking the fairest one of all and outfitting her with a sword and armor. It could be because the original Snow White is rather helpless (she relies on the aid of a huntsman, seven dwarfs and a prince) and thick (she's tricked by the evil queen so many times that it's evident she has no learning curve), so it's more satisfying when tweaked into a feminist warrior mold.
The original Grimm tale is also incredibly violent. Snow White narrowly escapes being stabbed to death; she's choked and poisoned multiple times by her evil stepmother, and she punishes the evil queen by making her dance in red hot shoes until she dies. Throw in dwarfs and a prince, and no wonder the story gets amped up with blood and battles.
It's taken a while for Hollywood to embrace the gorier side of the story, though. The first cinematic versions of "Snow White" (a 1916 silent version and Walt Disney's iconic animated film) are centered on a limpid-eyed heroine, clownish dwarfs, adorable animals and cheerful stair-scrubbing.
Subsequent adaptations have gone down a similarly sweet path. For years, the most radical reinterpretation was probably "Snow White and the Three Stooges," which ... well, no explanation is really necessary. Then came the inevitable pornographic and erotic versions ("Once Upon A Girl," a Brazilian porn called "Stories Our Nannies Don't Tell" and the Italian "Biancaneve & Co."). In 1987, MGM finally made a version of "Snow White" that used all of the Queen's assassination attempts – the corset, the comb and the poisoned apple – but it softened the horror with songs, silly humor and a shiny cinematic style.
Ten years later, someone finally decided to embrace the horror of Grimm with the 1997 TV movie "Snow White: A Tale of Terror." Oddly, the movie doesn't take on the horror of the folk original (no choking corset or red-hot shoes to be found), but instead makes the evil queen -- Lady Claudia here -- a woman who is twisted with jealousy, the loss of her own child and the hassle of raising a bratty Lily (Snow White, but never explicitly called that). Claudia embraces some truly grotesque witchcraft, with a bedroom scene between Sam Neill and Sigourney Weaver that will probably never, ever leave your mind; but in between all the organ-eating, it does find time to give Lily a crossbow. The film also recasts her dwarfs as full-sized miners and mercenaries who were only too happy to hack and slash for their lady. It's wildly uneven and not truly "a tale of terror," but interesting since Lily is uninterested in reclaiming her riches or title. She prefers the woods and her scarred-up swordsman, Will, to any happily-ever-after stuff.
After a big breather during which "Sydney White," the comic "Fables," and "Once Upon a Time" all re-imagined Snow White in a modern-day setting, we've got two movies this year that re-imagine Snow White as a patriot, leading an uprising to overthrow the evil queen and reclaim the kingdom: "Mirror Mirror" and "Snow White and the Huntsman." Sure, the "fairest one of all" stuff is still inherent in the story, but now the queen fears for both her throne and her looks. Snow White is dispatched because she's a political threat, not just a cosmetic one.
One movie would be fodder enough for critical thought; two is absolutely fascinating. What is in the air that caused a fairy tale heroine to go so militant? Was it the influence of Katniss Everdeen? The rejection of obsessive Bella Swan romance? A dissatisfaction with how women are valued? What kind of effect will these re-tellings have? "Mirror Mirror" can already be written off as a flop, but it also went up against "The Hunger Games." What if it had emphasized its heroine's swordfights more than the luscious costumes? Would more people have lined up, curious for a Katniss-like take on a iconic princess? Possibly.
"Huntsman" has more interest and buzz, in part because it stars Kristen Stewart and Charlize Theron, but also undoubtedly because it's emphasizing the scope of Snow's journey from bedraggled prey to fierce warrior. If there's a big female turnout for "Huntsman," will that speak to a longing for more action heroines? More fairy tale reinventions? Could the movie flop because audiences prefer their Snow to sing to bluebirds while washing dwarf dishes? And after both versions, will anyone ever tackle the "true" story with the poisoned comb and the death-by-dancing?
Even the Brothers Grimm might be surprised at just how flexible the Snow White story has proved to be. Then again, maybe they just never wrote down the version where Snow White carries a shield and smacks down opposing armies. Maybe that was the original, and "Huntsman" isn't all that new after all. Only one thing is for sure ... we'll never stop retelling this particular tale.
