The Fall of Disney’s “Snow White” Remake Was Inevitable
- BoilingPoint.Live
- Mar 27
- 5 min read

The Fall of Disney’s “Snow White” Remake Was Inevitable
Disney’s latest live-action remake, Snow White, released in March 2025, has crashed and burned at the box office, pulling in a measly $43 million domestically during its opening weekend against a staggering $250 million production budget. By all accounts, this is a financial disaster for a film meant to reimagine one of the most iconic stories in the company’s history—the 1937 animated classic that launched Disney into the entertainment stratosphere. Yet, instead of celebrating a triumphant return to fairy-tale glory, the studio finds itself grappling with a resounding rejection from audiences. The reasons behind this flop go beyond mere execution flaws; they strike at the heart of nostalgia, American values, and a growing frustration with Hollywood’s penchant for rewriting cherished tales.
From the moment Snow White hit theaters, the numbers told a grim story. With only $3.5 million earned in Thursday previews and a global debut of $87 million, the film failed to even recoup a third of its budget in its initial run. Critics were lukewarm, handing it a 44% score on Rotten Tomatoes, while audiences gave it a slightly better but still uninspiring 74%. Posts on X echoed the sentiment, with one user noting an IMDb rating of 2/10 and scathing reviews calling it “toe-curlingly terrible” (The Guardian) and “good enough for TV” (Vanity Fair). Theaters sat nearly empty, with reports of screenings selling just one ticket—or none at all—for prime weekend slots. For a film with such a hefty price tag and a legacy to uphold, this isn’t just a stumble; it’s a full-on collapse.
The warning signs were there long before release. The movie was plagued by production woes—COVID delays, a fire on set, and reshoots hampered by an actors’ strike. But the real trouble brewed in the court of public opinion, where controversies piled up like firewood waiting for a spark. From casting disputes to the decision to replace the Seven Dwarfs with CGI creations, the film alienated fans at every turn. Yet, the most damning blow came from its star, Rachel Zegler, and the creative team’s apparent disdain for the original story—a story that holds a sacred place in American culture.
The 1937 Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs wasn’t just Disney’s first feature-length animated film; it was a cultural milestone. Released during the Great Depression, it offered hope, resilience, and a simple, timeless tale of good triumphing over evil. Snow White, with her gentle spirit and unwavering kindness, became an emblem of innocence and perseverance—values that resonated deeply with American audiences then and now. The film’s songs, like “Someday My Prince Will Come,” and its whimsical dwarfs became woven into the fabric of childhood memories, passed down through generations.
Enter the 2025 remake, which seemed determined to dismantle that legacy. Zegler, cast as Snow White, famously remarked at Disney’s 2022 D23 Expo that the original was outdated, particularly its focus on romance: “The original cartoon came out in 1937 and very evidently so. There’s a big focus on her love story with the guy who literally stalks her. Weird, weird.” The new version, she promised, would reframe Snow White as a leader, not a damsel awaiting rescue. Director Marc Webb and the screenwriters leaned into this shift, infusing the story with modern political layers—turning it into a tale of a princess battling social injustice rather than a personal journey of survival and grace.
This rewrite didn’t just tweak the narrative; it spat in the face of the nostalgia that made Snow White enduring. For many Americans, the original isn’t a relic to be mocked but a touchstone of simpler times, a story that taught moral clarity and the power of kindness without preaching. By dismissing it as “weird” and replacing its heart with a “girlboss” agenda, Disney signaled that the values of the past—humility, love, and hope—were no longer good enough. That arrogance didn’t sit well.
The backlash wasn’t just about nostalgia; it was about the perceived assault on values Americans hold dear. The original Snow White embodied a rugged individualism tempered by community—the dwarfs banding together to protect their friend, Snow White’s quiet strength in the face of adversity. It was a story that celebrated traditional roles without apology: a heroine who found joy in domesticity and a prince who represented honor and salvation. These elements, while not perfect for everyone, struck a chord with a nation built on family, faith, and the pursuit of happiness.
The remake, by contrast, seemed to sneer at those ideals. Zegler’s comments framed the prince as a stalker and the romance as irrelevant, while the dwarfs—once lovable symbols of camaraderie—were reduced to CGI afterthoughts following debates sparked by actor Peter Dinklage’s criticism of their portrayal. The focus shifted to a Snow White who didn’t need saving, didn’t need love, and didn’t need anyone—a feminist reimagining that felt more like a lecture than a fairy tale. For many, this wasn’t progress; it was a rejection of the very principles that made the story resonate.
Adding fuel to the fire, Zegler’s outspoken political stances—anti-Trump rhetoric and pro-Palestine posts—clashed with co-star Gal Gadot’s Israeli background, stirring further controversy. Disney reportedly scrambled to manage the fallout, with producer Marc Platt flying to reprimand Zegler and the studio hiring a “social media guru” to vet her posts. But the damage was done. To a significant portion of the American public, this wasn’t just a movie; it was a symbol of Hollywood’s disconnect—an elite industry telling them their values, their memories, and their stories were obsolete.
The failure of Snow White isn’t just karmic payback; it’s a rightful reckoning. Americans have every reason to be angry when a beloved classic is gutted and repurposed to push a narrative that feels foreign to its roots. Nostalgia isn’t just sentimentality—it’s a connection to shared history and identity. By insulting the original and its fans, Disney gambled that audiences would swallow a revisionist pill wrapped in CGI and star power. They were wrong.
This flop sends a message: there’s a limit to how far you can stretch a classic before it breaks. The box office numbers, the empty theaters, the brutal reviews—all reflect a public that’s tired of being talked down to. Disney’s live-action remakes once thrived on nostalgia—think The Lion King or Beauty and the Beast—but Snow White proves that nostalgia alone isn’t enough when you strip away the soul of the story. Americans didn’t reject this film because they hate change; they rejected it because it insulted what they loved.
In the end, Snow White’s tanking is a victory for those who value the originals—not as untouchable relics, but as stories worth preserving in spirit. Disney may yet learn its lesson: you don’t fix what isn’t broken, and you don’t bite the hand that feeds you. For now, this fairy tale’s ending is a grim one—and justly so.