Snow White (United States, 2025)

“Someday, my prince will come…” So sang Adriana Caelotti in the Depression-era classic, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the film that proved Walt Disney was more than Mickey Mouse. Some 90 years later, amidst a wave of cash-grabs that have seen far too many of the Magic Kingdom’s animated treasures exploited via live-action “re-creations,” someone decided it was Snow White’s turn. But, because mores have changed (which is to be expected considering the span of time), the film’s signature tune – ranked #19 on the all-time movie song list – had to be jettisoned because the writers of the new movie couldn’t figure out a way to include it without demeaning their newly minted vision of the title character. That exemplifies the problem faced by the filmmakers. The 1937 production casts too long a shadow to escape from with a radically changed approach and much of what played well to our grandparents and great-grandparents simply won’t work in the 2020s.

The obvious answer would have been not to remake Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Let it continue to exist in that animated fantasy bubble. Truth be told, outside of the technical achievement of being the first feature-length animated film, it’s not a great movie (at least for adults). But Disney has become too greedy to leave any stone unturned even when it involves tarnishing one of its most beloved jewels. So, despite growing headwinds against these cartoon-to-live-action remakes, Snow White entered the process.

All that is past prologue and “woulda coulda shoulda” doesn’t mean much. The movie exists and the best I can say about it is it’s fitfully entertaining but feels as plastic and artificial as most of the other animated Disney remakes. No better, no worse. The biggest standout among this new wave of titles, Kenneth Branagh’s Cinderella, worked because the director opted for a true re-imagination (with no songs) – something none of the other high-profile regurgitations have attempted. When Beauty and the Beast made a ton of money, the die was cast. And it’s still rolling.

Many of Snow White’s story beats are familiar: Princess Snow White (Rachel Zegler) escapes from the clutches of her evil stepmother (Gal Gadot) and flees into a mystical forest. She is pursued by the queen’s Huntsman (Ansu Kabia), who has been tasked with killing her and bringing back her heart in a jewelry box. But the Huntsman spares her life and she soon finds sanctuary at the cottage of the seven CGI dwarfs: Doc (Jeremy Swift), Grumpy (Martin Klebba), Dopey (Andrew Barth Feldman), Bashful (Tituss Burgess), Happy (George Salazar), Sneezy (Jason Kravits), and Sleepy (Andy Grotelueschen). After helping them clean the house, she heads out to banter with Jonathan (Andrew Burnap), a local Robin Hood-type outlaw who fills the love interest role since Prince Charming is M.I.A. in this version.

Erin Cressida Wilson’s treatment introduces two narrative hiccups. The first relates to the fate of Snow White’s father, the King (Hadley Fraser), whose possible continued existence provides a story point until it’s unceremoniously dropped. Then there’s the anti-climactic reworked ending, which postulates a different downfall for the Queen from the 1937 movie (where she fell off a cliff) and the fairy tale (where she dances to death in a pair of molten iron slippers).

There’s no reason why Snow White needs to be a musical except that Disney has apparently decided that’s a necessary direction for these movies (the exceptional Cinderella notwithstanding). Three of the 1937 Larry Morey/Frank Churchill songs have survived (“Heigh Ho!”, “Whistle While You Work”, and “The Silly Song”) but more were needed so the production team hired Benj Pasek and Justin Paul to contribute a half-dozen utterly forgettable tunes that no one will be humming or whistling while they work. Attempting to mitigate the absence of “Someday My Prince Will Come,” instrumental strains of the song can be heard as part of the underscore (if you’re listening carefully enough, which I wasn’t, so I’m taking their word for it).

Putting aside the various off-screen issues related to Rachel Zegler, the actress is arguably the best live-action Snow White (her main competition being Lily Collins in Mirror, Mirror and Kristen Stewart in Snow White and the Huntsman). She exudes pluckiness and can sing, which are the two primary requirements for the role. Gal Gadot is rather embarrassing as the one-note queen, although the screenplay doesn’t do her any favors. She’s a step up from Charlize Theron in Huntsman but a notch below Julia Roberts in Mirror, Mirror. The dwarfs get the CGI treatment, allowing them to weirdly resemble their animated counterparts. (It can’t be a coincidence, however, that Dopey is a dead ringer for Mad Magazine’s Alfred E. Neuman.) Andrew Burnap, playing Bandit King Jonathan, gets to kiss Zegler but displays little in the way of chemistry with her or charisma in his own right.

Snow White is not the abomination some naysayers hoped it would be. It’s competently made and proves to be an adequate diversion for adults who like movie musicals. Younger viewers will most likely adore it, although it’s questionable how many will remember it for long. And more than a few will ask about the changes when they watch the animated version on Disney+. It’s disposable entertainment that will put some spare change in the distributor’s coffers while never coming close to replacing its venerable antecedent in viewers' hearts.

Snow White (United States, 2025)