The Death of Snow White

In a year flooded with high-budget remakes and safe studio offerings, The Death of Snow White emerges like a blood-soaked dagger in a field of plastic swords. Written, directed, and produced by Jason Brooks, known to horror fans as the terrifyingly physical Jason Voorhees in Friday the 13th: Bloodlines. This $1.2 million indie horror reimagining of the classic fairy tale isn't just bold... it's brutal. And more importantly, it's good.

Unlike Disney's own lifeless live-action attempt, Brooks doesn't hold back. The Death of Snow White takes the bones of the original tale and reanimates them with twisted intent. We follow Snow White (played with grit and vulnerability by Sanae Loutsis) not through a magical woodland filled with animals and dwarfs whistling while they work-but into a nightmare realm of gnarled trees, blood magic, and a pack of deranged, vengeful dwarves who make the seven from your childhood look like Teletubbies in comparison.

And while I'm not typically a fan of fantasy (ask me about The Lord of the Rings and I'll tell you once was enough), this film doesn't feel like a fantasy in the traditional sense. It's horror first, dark fantasy second... an eerie, dirt under the nails kind of experience where the forest feels alive and the danger is always one breath away.

The standout here, though, is Chelsea Edmundson as the Evil Queen. Obsession with beauty has always been the core of the character, but this version takes it to a chilling extreme. Edmundson sinks her teeth into the role, creating a villain who is captivating, terrifying, and disturbingly real. Her scenes pulse with menace, and her descent into madness and vanity fueled cruelty is the film's black heart. This might just be the best version of the Evil Queen we've ever seen on screen.

What's most impressive, though, is how much Brooks pulls off with so little. For a mere $1.2 million budget, this film delivers on atmosphere, gore, and world-building in a way that makes Disney's $240 million effort look like a bloated costume party. It's proof that vision and tone matter more than pixels and polish.

The Death of Snow White is a dark fairy tale done right, bold, bloody, and refreshingly unafraid to push boundaries. Even if you don't typically enjoy fantasy, the horror elements, strong performances, and razor-sharp direction make this one worth your time. Jason Brooks has crafted something twisted and special, and Chelsea Edmundson's Evil Queen is one for the horror hall of fame.

Granted, I have to admit that when I stumbled upon the 2025 movie "The Death of Snow White", and opted to watch it on account of it being a movie that I had neither seen nor actually ever heard about, then I was harboring zero expectations given the movie's title.

However, writers Jason Brooks and Naomi Mechem-Miller actually put together a script and storyline that proved to be corny and campy enough to actually make for an oddly entertaining movie. Sure, this was by no means Shakespearian theater, but would you expect that from a movie carrying a title such as "The Death of Snow White"?

Of the entire cast ensemble in the movie, I was only familiar with leading actress Sanae Loutsis. The acting performances in the movie were actually good.

Visually then the movie was actually surprisingly good. The wardrobe, props and sets were good and actually had a medieval fantasy feel to them, which helped carry the movie nicely.

I was actually adequately entertained by the cheesiness of the movie.

My rating of director Jason Brooks's 2025 movie "The Death of Snow White" lands on a five out of ten stars.

Jason Brooks's 2025 film, The Death of Snow White, offers a stark and compelling reimagining of the classic fairy tale, anchored by a captivating performance from Sanae Loutsis as the titular character. This is not the saccharine sweetness of childhood stories, but a more mature and psychologically nuanced exploration of beauty, envy, and survival. Loutsis imbues Snow White with a quiet strength and a palpable vulnerability, portraying her not as a passive victim but as a young woman acutely aware of the danger she faces and determined to navigate the treacherous landscape of her stepmother's obsession.

The film's atmosphere is a departure from traditional portrayals, opting for a visually striking palette of muted tones and shadowy forests, creating a sense of unease and foreboding. Brooks's deliberate pacing allows the tension to build gradually, emphasizing the isolation and the ever-present threat looming over Snow White. The reimagining of the seven dwarves as a more grounded community of individuals adds a layer of realism to the narrative, making Snow White's refuge feel less like a whimsical escape and more like a desperate alliance forged in the face of danger. This grounded approach allows Loutsis to showcase the character's resilience and her ability to connect with those who offer her sanctuary.

Chelsea Edmundson delivers a chilling and multifaceted portrayal of the Evil Queen. She avoids caricature, instead delving into the character's insecurities and the corrosive nature of her envy. Edmundson's performance reveals the pain and desperation driving the Queen's obsession with maintaining her beauty and power, making her a more complex and unsettling antagonist. The dynamic between Loutsis and Edmundson is the film's dramatic core, a silent battle of wills fueled by fear and resentment. Their scenes together crackle with tension, highlighting the dangerous power imbalance and Snow White's precarious position.

Ultimately, The Death of Snow White offers a fresh and compelling perspective on a timeless tale, elevated by Sanae Loutsis's nuanced and captivating portrayal of Snow White. Jason Brooks crafts a visually arresting and emotionally resonant film that explores the darker undercurrents of the classic story. While it may deviate from the familiar sweetness, its mature themes, strong performances - particularly from Loutsis - and atmospheric setting make it a thought-provoking and engaging cinematic experience, revealing a new and compelling facet to the enduring legend of Snow White.

A gory Disney reboot, here we go again. I stumbled upon this one by chance, drawn by the promise of a fairly professional production and an apparent 18+ rating that suggested something wild. Of course, the rating is wildly exaggerated, though the film does deliver a fair share of brutal, organ-heavy scenes.

The Death of Snow White sticks closely to the classic Disney tale, with all the key moments: the beauty-obsessed queen, the dark forest, the dwarves, the witch transformation, etc. It's well-paced, entertaining, and generous with its gruesome sequences. That said, there's a deeply cheesy vibe that sometimes kills the fun, though it's not unexpected. The fleeting attempts at humor consistently fall flat, feeling like the film is trying to appeal to kids between gory scenes, which is always awkward and out of place. Many secondary characters, like the Grimm brothers, are pointless, existing only to deliver heavy-handed, disposable jokes. Some fight scenes are choreographed with zero finesse, betraying an obvious lack of budget. You can feel a frustrating gap between the film's ambitions and its resources.

The big strength here is the gore. The creators serve up a relentless festival of effects, ranging from mildly unhinged to generally well-executed for a production like this. From the queen's macabre whims-using her maids as literal organ dispensers-to graphic fight sequences, there's plenty to sink your teeth into, including tooth-pulling, eyelid-stitching, decapitations, a woman torn apart by creatures, and heads smashed with hammers, with splatter effects that would make Ittenbach's Beyond the Limits proud. The medieval setting enhances it all. Some horror scenes are genuinely strong, from the forest monster attack to the mirror demons and the queen's grim fate in the epilogue. The film gets better as it goes, shedding much of its initial kitschy, almost parodic tone.

Disney horror adaptations are always flawed but never dull. The raw, crimson energy of this one is thrilling, despite some problematic nonsense. Looking forward to the next one, flaws and all.

Man, this picture moves-a fever-dream fairytale barreling through the woods in a chariot made of VHS tape and heavy metal fog, lit by the flickering torchlight of pure pulp passion. The Death of Snow White ain't just another backyard fantasy flick trying to fake its way into cult status. No, this one earns it. Earns it with grit, charm, and a wild sincerity that cuts through the cynicism like a broadsword through bone.

Could've sworn this was a lost Cannon Films relic-some long-buried warrior tale found on a Betamax in a pawn shop off the Jersey Turnpike. It's got that Sword and the Sorcerer energy, baby: sweaty, sword-swinging, spell-casting glory-but polished in a way that belies its indie roots. Looks like twice the money got spent and three times the heart.

The sound design rips. The humor lands. The action works, in that way where you feel the boots hit the dirt and the sweat sting the eyes. The acting? Rock solid, every single soul dialed in and playing it straight-like they believe in this twisted fairy tale world, and by god, you believe it too.

It's not just good-for-an-indie. It's good, period. One of those rare, no-bullshit reminders that indie film still has teeth-sharp ones. Makes you wanna go home and sharpen your own.

Highly recommend. And whatever these maniacs do next? I'm there for it.