“The Substance” is a wonderfully horrible experience. The second feature film from writer/director Coralie Fargeat (who debuted with 2017’s incredible “Revenge”) is a boldly disgusting body horror movie that has a lot to say about objectification, aging, and the superficial society in which we live. It’s also hilarious, inventive, beautiful, hideous, and witty in all the best of ways as it patiently builds up to a gonzo third act that could only be pulled off by an artist as assured and powerful as Fargeat. “The Substance” is absolutely not for everyone, for a whole host of reasons people may object to it (wrongly), but it is a tremendous cinematic experience that cements Fargeat’s as a formidable and admirable talent.
Elizabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) has been a movie star and icon for decades, but her current run as the host of an exercise show has come to an end. Her chauvinist producer (Dennis Quaid) thinks she’s too old and wishes to find a new talent to replace her. Put out to pasture and bereft of any identity, Elizabeth doesn’t know what to do when she receives a tempting offer. She can try The Substance, which will literally create a younger version of herself. This new creation, Sue (Margaret Qualley), spends a week in charge and then it transitions back to Elizabeth for a week, always maintaining a balance as they essentially share a body. But as Sue garners more success and attention, that balance starts to get broken and the duo soon find themselves at odds over control of the body.
Fans of ‘90s titles by Frank Henenlotter and Brian Yuzna will rejoice at just how goopy and gross “The Substance” is as its body horror is truly one of rank disgust. But it’s not just the bizarre f/x and mutations of those filmmakers, but also the more cerebral fears of David Cronenberg and Bret Easton Ellis’ works that permeate “The Substance.” Elizabeth’s concerns of getting older and no longer being seen as attractive are palpable, as Moore delivers an excellent performance that is the right mash up of realism and outrageousness. Her neuroticism becomes pathos which makes it easy to understand the Faustian bargain she strikes with the drug, and her increasing bitterness over Sue’s meteoric ascension play on relatable emotions that all of us experience to varying degrees. “The Substance” is not a subtle movie, but it is an incredibly human one. And it is sold by the two leads who are in dynamically opposite ends of the age spectrum (and placement in Hollywood, in real life).
Those fantastic turns are aided by the wonderful visuals. DP Benjamin Kracun’s camera devours his subjects, ravenously poring over every inch of their bodies. Along with the editing by Jerome Eltabet, Valentin Féron, and Fargeat herself, the screen becomes the literal definition of objectification, slicing up these figures into just parts, products to sell an image (in turn used to sell other products). This isn’t just a lustful gaze, but one that practically vivisects its subjects into the pieces ready to be consumed by our eyeballs. And when the camera isn’t sexily admiring these people, it’s contrasting that with the repugnant imagery that sells a whole new feeling of genuine unease and revulsion. There’s lots of excellently revolting moments in “The Substance,” but none may be as bad as the puckered anus of Quaid’s mouth sucking on a cigarette or greedily eating shrimp. This arbiter of what is sexy and hot is himself reduced to his own disgusting parts and found quite wanting. It’s a beautifully executed bit that Fargeat accomplishes with aplomb amidst all her other transmogrifications in the film.
“The Substance” is brilliant. It is sexy. It is sickening. It is hilarious. It is tragic. It’s an artist with something to say but without any qualms of going to extremes to say it. Watching the patriarchal systems force this misogynistic image obsession take root within a woman is harrowing, but Fargeat knows how to sell that discomfort in a way that is also entertaining and riotous. Being able to successfully pull off both modes, the tragic and the comic—often within the same scene—all while the story goes to unfathomable places is a Herculean task that the writer/director pulls off like a great magic trick. Images from “The Substance” will linger with you (haunt you, really) well after you’ve left the theater, and we’re all the better for having such a beautifully grotesque film in our lives.
4.5 / 5 Stars
Starring: Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley, Dennis Quaid
Directed by: Coralie Fargeat
