Why does a story retold a thousand times still make us lean forward, breath held, as a glass slipper slides onto a foot? Disney’s 2015 Cinderella, directed by Kenneth Branagh, doesn’t just dust off a fairy tale; it polishes it to a dazzling glow, proving that sincerity can still captivate in a cynical age. This live-action reimagining doesn’t reinvent the wheel nor does it need to. It’s a love letter to hope, wrapped in lush visuals and anchored by performances that pulse with heart.

Branagh’s direction is the film’s secret weapon. He leans into the story’s inherent warmth without tipping into saccharine excess, balancing grandeur with intimacy. The ball scene, a swirl of opulent gowns and candlelit chandeliers, feels like stepping into a Renaissance painting yet it’s the quiet moments, like Ella’s tear-streaked smile in the attic, that linger. His restraint keeps the film grounded, though the pacing occasionally drags in the second act, as if the script fears straying too far from its animated roots. Still, Branagh knows how to make magic feel real, and that’s no small feat.

Lily James as Cinderella is the film’s beating heart. She brings a radiant resilience to Ella, making her kindness a strength rather than a cliché. Her chemistry with Richard Madden’s Prince Kit crackles with earnest longing their dance feels like the world’s holding its breath. Cate Blanchett’s wicked stepmother, dripping with venomous elegance, steals every scene she’s in, but her malice sometimes borders on caricature, a rare misstep in an otherwise nuanced performance. The supporting cast, from Helena Bonham Carter’s quirky Fairy Godmother to the sniveling stepsisters, adds texture without overwhelming the leads.

Sandy Powell’s costume design deserves its own ovation. Every gown, from Ella’s ethereal blue dress to Blanchett’s emerald-drenched menace, tells a story of its own, amplifying character and mood. Paired with Dante Ferretti’s sumptuous production design, the visuals create a world that feels both fantastical and tactile a place you want to linger in. Patrick Doyle’s score, while lovely, doesn’t quite match the visuals’ impact, occasionally fading into the background when it could have soared.

In 2025, Cinderella resonates as a reminder that earnest storytelling still has a place amid gritty reboots and ironic quips. It’s not flawless some plot beats feel too familiar, and the stakes could bite harder but it’s a film that believes in its own magic. For audiences craving hope without pretense, it’s a rare gem. Watch it, and let yourself believe in fairy tales again, if only for two hours.