Sympathy for the de Vil.

In case you hadn’t heard, villain origins are all the rage right now, darling! A movement that started in earnest with Anakin and the Star Wars prequels has slowly grown to become one of Hollywood’s most prevailing obsessions.

Horror has done it with the likes of Saw IV and Leatherface. Maleficent proves that Disney are no strangers to it. Hell, even Captain Hook has had a go at it. But it wasn’t until the twin box office successes of Venom and Joker (the latter proving to be one of the most financially successful movies of all time) that studio execs really took notice.

Since then, villain origin stories are popping up everywhere, as studios up and down Hollywood rush to green light any villainous IP they can get their hands on. Yet, just as quickly as this fad has come dancing down the stairs, it runs the risk of disappearing back up them.

The fundamental flaw with this brand of origin tale is exactly what you expect. Hero origins are easy. Earning their power and learning responsibility are all part of the hero game. But villains? How exactly do you make us sympathise with someone we’ve been taught to loath?

And, more specifically, how the hell do you make us relate to a character that, quite literally, wanted to skin 101 puppies because she fancied a new coat?

Gifted, ambitious, and with an appetite for mischief, young grifter Estella (Emma Stone) is determined to make a name for herself in the fashion industry. Befriending a pair of likeminded thieves, Horace (Paul Walter Houser) and Jasper (Joel Fry), Estella builds a life for herself on the streets of 70s London. But when a chance encounter puts her in the orbit of the devastatingly chic and terrifyingly haute fashion legend, the Baroness von Hellman (Emma Thompson), their combative relationship will force Estella to embrace her wicked side and become the riotous, revenge-bent Cruella.

In the great pantheon of Disney villains, you’d be hard-pressed to find many as wickedly iconic as Cruella de Vil. From her two-tone hair to her enormous fur coat, Cruella is one of the most instantly recognisable antagonists in Disney history, but it’s her cold-blooded mission that really sets her apart from the crowd.

As character motivations go, kidnapping a bunch of dalmatian puppies in order to murder them is pretty damn dark, and, on the face of it at least, there’s no real justification for something so outright evil. Yet here we are, 60 years after the world was introduced to Cruella de Vil, and we’re being asked to reassess our stance on the infamous villain entirely.

As much as the film would like you to, it’s almost impossible to entirely detach yourself from the fundamental fact that our hero here will one day become a bloodthirsty, dog-murdering psychopath. That’s the battle Cruella faces and it’s one that it never truly succeeds with, as for all it’s repositioning of de Vil as a misunderstood genius and a rebellious, emotionally-fractured prodigy, it just can’t craft a convincing enough argument for our sympathy.

Whether it’s the original One Hundred and One Dalmatians or the Glenn Close live-action remake, it’s almost impossible to detach Cruella from anything that came before it, something that the film consistently struggles to reckon with. Wanting to have its cake and eat it, Cruella goes out of its way to reinvent de Vil, turning her from a narcissistic, chain-smoking spinster into an anarchistic fashionista, yet it can’t help but indulge in persistent call-backs.

Whether it’s the origin of her name, the hair, the car, or even the root of her thing against dalmatians, Cruella piles it all in, constantly reminding us of who the character is and where she’ll eventually end up. Of course, this is something all prequels do and makes Cruella no different from any other origin story, however, the film never quite makes it work.

Taken entirely on its own terms, however, there’s an undeniable vigour and an allure to Cruella that, entirely disconnected from its origins, makes it an absolute blast. A chaotic riot of style and energy, when it lets loose, the film’s buzz is impossible to resist.

For a story that riffs so heavily on the vibrant 70s worlds of punk and fashion, Cruella sets itself a tall task of evoking it’s setting and era, however, with sharp looks aplenty and a bagful of banging needle drops, it gets things just right. Like a heightened, punkier The Devil Wears Prada, Cruella is an absolute riot of impeccable style, with director Craig Gillespie and his costume department putting in the hard graft to produce an utterly infectious level of glamour and flair.

This energy certainly carries Cruella a long way and, for the most part, papers over its cracks, however, for all the glitz, glam, and (Disneyfied) punkiness, its plot and pacing constantly let it down. Clocking in at a bulky 134 minutes, there really is no justification for Cruella being as long as it is, as its stilted pace and plodding plot make for a frequently exasperating watch, despite its admirable verve.

Often feeling like little more than a string of cool and impossibly stylish set pieces, Cruella never seems to get its narrative out of first gear as it struggles to figure out what angle to take with the story. Patchy though it may be, however, when Cruella does hit its rhythm, it’s an irresistible force, with a bolshy attitude and an absorbing energy that ultimately pull the film through.

At times, the energy on offer is positively infectious, and a huge source of this comes courtesy of Cruella’s headline pair of Emmas. Embracing the chaos and the film’s heightened verve, Emma Stone and Emma Thompson are what really get things cooking, as they whip up a storm with a brilliantly biting antagonistic relationship that you never thought you needed in your life until now.

Ably supported by Joel Fry and the frequently wonderful Paul Walter Hauser (even with a cockney accent that would make Dick Van Dyke blush), Emma Stone makes for one hell of a Cruella de Vil, grasping the role with both hands and running with it. While there’s certainly a feeling that the character has been girlbossed somewhat, it’s hard to deny just how magnificent Stone is, encapsulating the anarchy, cartoonish menace, and riotous abandon necessary for the character.

Quite frankly, she has enough about her to carry the film on her own, yet paired opposite the inimitable Emma Thompson, Stone is afforded the perfect sounding board for her talents and the ideal opponent to complement her. It really is a match made in heaven and a rivalry you just can’t take your eyes of, as Thompson’s delightfully biting and wildly acerbic Baroness combines with Stone’s Cruella to set the catwalk on fire.

Never truly justifying why its title character actually needs an origin story in the first place, Cruella struggles to handle its connections to either the original film or the infamous villain and her nefarious deeds, however, taken on its own terms, the film is an absolute blast. While it’s far too long and plodding, dazzling visuals and an infectious energy, together with a pair of storming performances from Emma Stone and Thompson, make for an utterly irresistible watch.

Cruella is cinemas and available to stream on Disney+ (Premier Access) now.