White as Snow (2019)

White as Snow is what happens when a familiar fairy tale is poured into a glass of sharp French wit, adult sensuality, and quietly radical self-discovery. Anne Fontaine stages the story with a fable-like lightness—equal parts comedy and drama—while Lou de Laâge gives Claire a clear, magnetic inner life that makes her more than an object of desire, and Isabelle Huppert turns jealousy into an art form: cool, funny, and genuinely dangerous. The film’s pleasures are in its tone—breezy banter, simmering tension, and romance that feels playful yet pointed as it pokes at propriety and power. It’s not for everyone if you want a tidy moral or a chaste bedtime retelling, but if you’re open to a sly, grown-up reinvention, it’s an intoxicating watch.

White as Snow is clearly aiming for a sly, adult spin on Snow White—part fairy tale, part erotic coming-of-age, with Anne Fontaine trying to turn jealousy and liberation into something darkly playful. The problem is it often feels like it’s circling its own idea: the pacing is sleepy, the tone wobbles between drama and comedy, and the “seven princes” concept never quite lands with the bite or purpose it promises. Isabelle Huppert brings real menace and intelligence to the stepmother role, and Lou de Laâge has an appealing openness, but strong acting can’t fully disguise how disorganized and emotionally thin the storytelling can be. If you want a sharp, provocative fairy-tale reinvention, you may leave frustrated; if you’re patient with languid French art-house mood pieces and are mainly here for atmosphere and performances, it might still work.