In case you needed reminding: The One Hundred and One Dalmatians franchise has never been about the dogs. No – its real star is Cruella de Vil, the acerbic, deliciously biting antagonist with an unhinged fur obsession. To fill her shoes – or should we say her furs – is a daunting undertaking. But it’s one Emma Stone tackles with admirable hustle and considerable charisma in Disney’s new Cruella.

Stone’s task in this fitfully fun, frenzied, beautifully costumed version directed by Craig Gillespie is to help us understand a Cruella-in-progress – the person she was before she started kidnapping and skinning puppies.

Running roughly two hours and 16 minutes, Cruella pursues a long, at times slow, path to contextualising the titular figure’s origins. The film begins in 1960s England with young Cruella, birth name Estella, struggling to fit in. There are early signs of the woman she will become.

She doesn’t fare much better at school, because of which they move to London. On the road, Cruella and her mother stop at a magnificent country home. Cruella’s mother, hushed and vague, commands her daughter to stay in the car. But ever the rebel, Cruella, her rescue puppy in tow, sets out to explore the grounds. What she finds in the house – an opulent fashion show replete with gorgeous gowns – blows her mind and warms her aspiring-designer heart.

Mayhem ensues and Cruella finds herself running from security guards and three angry Dalmatians, ending up on the estate’s veranda, where she sees her mother talking to a mysterious figure. In an unexpected turn, the dogs attack Cruella’s mother, pushing her off the terrace’s edge.

Her death haunts Cruella, who goes to London, where she links up with a band of orphan thieves. As the story moves into the 1970s, Cruella lands a job at a prestigious fashion house. Here the film veers into Devil Wears Prada terrain. It’s a thrill to see Stone and Emma Thompson, sly and funny as the Miranda Priestley-esque Baroness in charge of the house, gnash their teeth at each other.

The extent to which the titular figure has been sanitised and softened is also a bit disappointing: This Cruella is more revenge-seeking designer giving girl boss energy than morally bankrupt dog murderer.

What Cruella lacks in script, however, it makes up for in sheer visual punch, with costume designer Jenny Beavan’s exquisitely detailed gowns especially enriching the angsty, sinister universe the film conjures.