And Sophie — God, Sophie broke my heart. Her descent into Evil wasn’t just about being corrupted by Rafal; it was about feeling like no one ever truly believed in her dream….
Instead of being lulled by the sweetness of magic, you’re jolted awake by how sharp and twisted everything really is? That’s exactly what The School for Good and Evil felt like to me. I went in expecting a colorful, maybe cheesy fantasy about princesses, villains, and magic schools, but what I got was this layered, messy, and strangely emotional ride about friendship, identity, and how blurry the line between “good” and “evil” can actually be. It wasn’t just a story about spells and gowns — it felt like watching people wrestle with who they truly are versus who the world wants them to be, and honestly, it made me reflect on my own life more than I thought it would.
It all starts with Sophie and Agatha, two girls who couldn’t be more different but somehow belong to each other. Sophie is the dreamer — blonde, bright-eyed, obsessed with fairy tales, convinced she’s destined to be a princess. She’s the kind of girl who writes her story before life even hands her the pen. Agatha, on the other hand, is darker, misunderstood, living on the edge of town with her witchy vibe, not really fitting into anybody’s idea of “beautiful” or “pure.” And yet, their friendship feels so raw and grounding — they’re each other’s escape from a world that keeps putting them into boxes. I loved that from the very beginning because it reminded me of those odd friendships we sometimes form, the ones that don’t make sense to anyone else but feel like home to us.
The next trick takes them into this fantasy of the world of Good and Evil. They are swept off into this magic land where children are made into heroes or villains, who will be the main characters in all fairy-tales. It is a crazy idea in itself, but the true mess starts when Sophie, who was so sure that she would fit in Good, is dumped in the School for Evil and Agatha, who, since her childhood, could only dream of something to mock her, appears in the School of Good. That inversion hit me hard. As though the movie meant, What you are, and what you really are, are not always the same thing. And God, how often has it been the case with all of us in life?
It was funny and sad to see Sophie attempt to adapt to the School of Evil. They are filled with witches, snakes, and this gothic charge, and she is continually attempting to smile herself out of this predicament, to pretend that she can princess herself into the proper category. However, the harder she tries, the more we begin to perceive that her appearance of a perfect girl has cracks in it. And then there is Agatha, in the School where one goes to get good, is treading on her heels in her all-black clothes, her sniping, her contempt of glitter and pink, so out of place among all these polished, dainty princesses. It seemed that she continued rolling her eyes at their rules as she did, and it was like watching a person drag him or herself through life, which does not suit his or her skin.
The deeper the narrative, the more twisted it became. Sophie begins to be drawn into the circles of darkness, Rafal, the villain who in allurements offers her the idea that perhaps she is not lost at all, perhaps it is all she is supposed to be. And here the movie really got my attention. Since it is not a mere goofy fairy tale, but this adventure of power and self-image. Sophie is not simply becoming evil, she is learning how good it is to be noticed, to be strong, after decades of being looked down upon. And Agatha, at the same time, is understanding that perhaps good does not have to be about dresses and smiles, perhaps it has to be about decisions and devotion and keeping the people you love safe, even though they are making you hurt.
A scene which I found memorable was the one in which Sophie transforms in the process of accepting her position in Evil. This kind of cold, clean beauty of how she is coming out of her past self, the blonde curls, the pink dresses, and into something cold and hard that is darker and sharper, there is something in that. Not only the costume, but it was as though a girl was taking off her mask and was telling you, That is me, like it or not. And yet despite the power with which she looked, I could feel this ach of sadness, as though she was losing that side of herself which had giggled in the woods with Agatha. The fact of that struggle--to see her grow and wither simultaneously--was hypnotic.
Then there is the confusion of the schools colliding. The fights between Good and Evil are not mere magical flash-fights, although, to be honest, the visuals were marvelous; the fights are symbolic. The friendship of the girls is being threatened. Everybody is tugging at them, telling them what they are, and, so, the question is not, do they choose the labels which the world places over them, but do they choose one another. It is that emotional core that kept me attached to the screen.
The development of Agatha was getting on my nerves. She switches between despising everything about the School of Good to accepting that perhaps goodness is in fighting on behalf of Sophie even when she continues to drive her away. It reminded me of the times of my life when a friend was out of control and was caught up in something that was eating them alive and all I could do was be there even though they might not want me to be there. The helpless devotion-- that was what Agatha represented.
And Sophie — God, Sophie broke my heart. Her descent into Evil wasn’t just about being corrupted by Rafal; it was about feeling like no one ever truly believed in her dream. How many times have we bent ourselves into shapes, trying to prove to people that we’re more than what they see? Her “evil” was born out of longing, and that’s what made her so human.
The last confrontation between the forces of Good and Evil was exciting, yes, but what nauseated me was when the friendship to its utmost extent between Sophie and Agatha was put to the test. Was that to fight on opposite sides as enemies? Or would they not recall that, despite all the magic, crowns and curses, they were two girls once in a small town who used to hold hands against the world? And that decision, that weak hour, was greater than all bodiless explosions of spells. And when they discovered their distance home to one another, after all the betrayals and hurt, I had this rush of relief, as though I saw a friend you think you have lost returned.
When the dust cleared, and the movie had ended, I could not get my mind off how this movie was similar to the real life. Sometimes we are all thrown into schools, which we do not belong in, which have been judged by appearances, and thrust into categories. Others of us struggle to prove we are good, others of us are sucked into bitterness, yet all of us, at the bottom of it, are just trying to be recognized as we actually are. And perhaps, perhaps, the perfection or the power does not save us in the end, but rather the people who retain in us our own best selves.
It is what The School for Good and Evil made me feel: I was laughing, awe, a few chills, but this weird ache in my chest. As much as it was an illusion it was also a reflection. A reminder that there are no fairy tale good and evil. This is because they exist within us and coexist. And sometimes the bravest thing we may have to do, is to cling to that which sees in us and loves us still.