Maleficent here is not hunched over, vulnerable and hurt, but openly accepting what has been done to her – and confidently. She looks at you haughtily, daring you to keep looking, to judge her, to say it’s her fault. And you know that the essence of her is more than just her wings, and more than what she’s lost.
This is you. Not a crushed petal with crossed bones and pained looks – but a dragon, a force majeure, with a dancer’s arms open –
but not broken.