Title: Snow White

Director: Marc Webb

Cast: Rachel Zegler, Gal Gadot, Andrew Burnap, Andrew Barth Feldman and others

Where: In theatres near you

Rating: HHH

In an era where Disney’s live-action remakes oscillate between inspired reimaginings and corporate nostalgia trips, Director Marc Webb’s Snow White plants its glass slipper somewhere in the middle. It is neither the poisoned apple its detractors predicted nor the dazzling, fairest-of-them-all spectacle it aspires to be. Instead, it is a polished, occasionally rousing update that shines brightest in its performances but falls short of expectations.

Rachel Zegler, as the eponymous princess, is a luminous presence, delivering a performance that is both- heartfelt and determined. Her Snow White is not merely a damsel awaiting her prince but an aspirational leader seeking to restore a kingdom beset by tyranny. She navigates this transformation gracefully, her crystalline vocals adding poignancy to the film’s handful of new songs. The standout among them, “Waiting on a Wish,” soars with Broadway polish, even if the rest of the compositions by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul flirt dangerously with the generic.

Then there is Gal Gadot’s Evil Queen, who sweeps into the film clad in Sandy Powell’s opulent gowns and enough power jewellery to intimidate a cartel. She preens, glares, and schemes with delicious malice, yet one can not help but wish for more operatic villainy. Her song, “All Is Fair (When You Wear the Crown),” promises grandeur but never quite reaches full-throated malevolence. Unlike Angelina Jolie’s gloriously camp Maleficent, Gadot plays it with a cool hauteur that, while striking, never fully electrifies.

The narrative attempts to thread the needle between honouring the original 1937 animation and modernising its themes. The prince has been swapped- for Jonathan (Andrew Burnap), a roguish commoner with a heart of gold and a knack for potato theft. Their romance is less love-at-first-sight and more meet-cute-meets-mild-antagonism, a staple of contemporary Disney romances. Meanwhile, the seven dwarfs—now a CGI ensemble voiced by a talented cast—teeter between charming and uncanny. Their digitally rendered forms lean more toward intrigue than whimsy, adding an unexpected contrast to the film’s otherwise lush aesthetic.

Visually, the film is a mixed bag. Cinematographer Mandy Walker crafts enchanting sequences, from sun-dappled forest glades to a cavernous gemstone-laced mine that looks plucked from a Disneyland ride-in-waiting. Yet the integration of practical sets and CGI is inconsistent, with some sequences exuding old-world storybook charm and others veering into artificial gloss.

Perhaps the film’s most telling omission is the absence of Someday My Prince Will Come, a song synonymous with the original’s dreamy romanticism. The choice signals a clear departure from the classic’s love-conquers-all ethos in favour of self-determination, a recalibration that feels right for the times, even if it strips the story of some of its old-school enchantment.

In the grand pantheon of Disney’s live-action endeavours, the film lands somewhere in the respectable upper-middle tier—more soulful than Dumbo, more cohesive than Pinocchio, but falling short of the grandeur of Cinderella or Beauty and the Beast. Just as Snow White mentions in the film, “Good things were nurtured and allowed to grow,” this adaptation reflects that spirit, the film is not quite the fairest of them all but fair enough.