Honestly, if you go into the 2020 movie Gretel & Hansel expecting a sugary "gingerbread house" vibe or a generic jump-scare fest, you’re going to be pretty confused.
It’s weird. It’s slow. It’s breathtakingly beautiful in a way that feels like a nightmare you don't want to wake up from. Directed by Oz Perkins—son of Psycho legend Anthony Perkins—this isn't just another remake. It’s a total dismantling of the story we think we know.
Most people remember the Brothers Grimm version: two kids, a trail of breadcrumbs, and a witch in a candy house. But Perkins flips the script. Literally. He puts Gretel’s name first because this isn't a story about two siblings getting lost; it’s a story about a young woman finding a terrifying kind of power in a world that has absolutely nothing to offer her.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Story
We tend to think of fairy tales as bedtime stories for kids.
That’s a mistake.
The original "Hansel and Gretel" roots go back to the Great Famine of 1315. We're talking about a time when Europe was so starved that parents actually abandoned their children in the woods because they couldn't feed them. It wasn't "magical." It was survival.
Gretel & Hansel leans hard into that bleakness.
Sophia Lillis plays Gretel as a teenager on the edge of adulthood, while her brother Hansel (Samuel Leakey) is much younger and, frankly, a bit of a burden. They aren't just "lost." They are refugees from a home where their mother has literally threatened them with a hatchet because there’s no bread left.
When they find that A-frame house in the woods, it doesn’t look like candy. It looks like a brutalist architectural anomaly. It’s sleek, dark, and geometric. Inside, the "witch" Holda (played with terrifying grace by Alice Krige) doesn't just want to eat them. She wants to mentor Gretel.
That’s the twist that catches people off guard. Holda sees Gretel as a "sister" in craft. She wants to show her that she doesn't have to be a victim of famine or a servant to a younger brother. She offers her a seat at the table—if she’s willing to pay the price.
Why the Visuals Matter More Than the Plot
If you look at the cinematography by Galo Olivares, you’ll notice something strange.
Every shot is perfectly centered. The colors are earthy—deep oranges, mossy greens, and that startling, blood-red cape Gretel wears. It feels less like a movie and more like a series of oil paintings.
Perkins uses a 1.55:1 aspect ratio. It’s narrow. It makes you feel trapped, just like the kids.
Key Differences from the Grimm Tale:
- The House: No gingerbread here. It’s a dark, wooden structure that feels like it belongs in a modern art gallery.
- The Role of Gretel: She isn't just a helper; she’s the protagonist. She has visions. She has a "touch" for the supernatural.
- The Witch’s Motivation: In the old stories, the witch is just hungry. In this version, Holda is a philosopher of the dark arts. She’s teaching Gretel about "the beauty of the hunt."
The film was shot in Dublin, Ireland, and you can feel that damp, ancient chill in every scene. There’s a specific sequence involving a bucket of grey goop that turns into a feast, and it’s one of the most unsettling things I’ve ever seen on film. It’s not "scary" like a monster jumping out of a closet; it’s scary because it feels wrong.
The "Eerie" Factor
Critics were kinda split on this one.
Rotten Tomatoes has it at a 63%, which is "fresh" but not a landslide. Why? Because it’s a "slow burn." If you want The Conjuring, you’ll be bored. If you want The Witch (2015) or Midsommar, you’ll probably love it.
The score by Robin Coudert (who goes by "Rob") is all synthesizers and dread. It sounds like the 1980s met a medieval forest and they didn't get along. It keeps you on edge even when "nothing" is happening.
But honestly, things are happening. They’re just happening inside Gretel’s head. She’s grappling with the idea that she might be "made of the same matter" as the witch. That’s a heavy concept for a PG-13 horror movie.
Is it Worth a Watch?
You’ve gotta be in the right mood.
It’s a movie about the transition from childhood to the terrifying independence of being an adult. It asks a hard question: what are you willing to do to survive when the world has forgotten you?
Gretel eventually has to choose between her loyalty to her innocent brother and the dark autonomy offered by the witch. It’s not a "happily ever after" ending. It’s a "now I am what I was meant to be" ending.
Actionable Insights for Your Next Movie Night:
- Watch the background: Perkins hides figures in the trees and shadows. If you blink, you’ll miss the "sisters" watching from the woods.
- Pay attention to the colors: Red is used very specifically to signal Gretel’s burgeoning power.
- Check the history: Read up on the Great Famine of 1315 before watching. It makes the "hunger" in the movie feel much more real and much more desperate.
- Don't expect a breadcrumb trail: There isn't one. Instead, look for the triangular symbols and the way the architecture changes as Gretel gets closer to her "true self."
This movie is basically a fever dream about growing up. It’s dark, it’s beautiful, and it’s way more than a simple fairy tale.
Next time you’re scrolling through a streaming service and see that triangular house on the thumbnail, give it a shot. Just don't expect a snack.
To get the most out of Gretel & Hansel, try watching it in a completely dark room with the volume turned up high—the sound design is half the experience. Once you've finished, compare the film's ending to the original 1812 Grimm version to see how drastically our cultural ideas of "female empowerment" have shifted in 200 years.