The origin of fairy tales is said to go back as much as 6,000 years old, with researchers believing that one of the first to be called “The Smith and the Devil”, telling the story of a blacksmith who sells his souls to the devil for supernatural powers.

Even others, that you might consider more recent thanks to Disney, are older than you might think, such as Cinderella, with a Greek version that dates as far back as 6 BCE.

It’s this particular tale that forms the template for this Norwegian horror.

Arriving in Swedlandia by coach is Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp), and her two daughters Elvira (Lea Myren) and Alma (Flo Fagerli). She’s there to marry the elderly Otto (Ralph Carlsson), uniting their two families, including his daughter Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Nӕss).

It should be a joyous occasion, but the mood drastically changes when Otto dies, leaving the family penniless.

The only way Rebekka can see the family surviving is if her eldest Elvira marries into money. She is obsessed with a Prince Julian, who has written a book of poetry, who just so happens to live in a castle close by. He’s having a ball shortly, where he is to choose a bride, but although Rebekka feels Elvira has a chance, she’s not considered beautiful, so will need to have some work done to make the grade.

But the treatment Elvira endures is borderline torture, but as she knows all too well, no pain no gain. But with other girls also keen to be his bride, how far will she go?

Emilie Blichfeldt’s directorial debut is certainly a striking one. Based on the Brothers Grimm version of Cinderella, it is impressively gothic looking, with authentic sets, which have an air of romance and darkness about them.

It may follow the Cinderella tale, but Blichfeldt is also making a statement about the pressure on young women to beautify themselves. It may not feature selfies and filters, but the need to make yourself attractive to the opposite sex, often ‘encouraged’ by family and friends, is worryingly present.

To that end, the means Elvira goes to, to achieve the necessary results, is nothing short of brutal. You wouldn’t expect a body horror set within a fairy tale, but the Norwegian director meshes the two together with considerable ease, and the results are the kind that may make the hardened horror fan wince, which is some feat for a debut.

The one quibble might be that even at the start Elvira is actually attractive, and the lengths she goes to, which are quite severe, don’t make that much of a stunning transformation. But if you take into consideration the period its set, and the high standards they set as far as being beautiful is concerned, you can kind of accept it.

It’s certainly more Grimm than Disney, beautifully shot with a gothic edge, that gives an indication on this evidence that director Blichfeldt has an attractive future ahead of her.