Film review: The Substance - Law Society Journal
Coralie Fargeat's film The Substance hits viewers with relentless energy, delivering a powerful experience throughout its nearly two-hour and twenty-minute duration. Having made a successful splash at various film festivals, including Cannes, where it won the award for best screenplay, the film stands out for its boldness and straightforwardness. Its central message is revealed right from the opening scene, which shows an aerial shot of a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame—initially admired by onlookers but eventually overlooked as just another slab of concrete.
The Substance is a movie that explores the unpredictability of fame and public image. It delves into how Hollywood tends to elevate stars only to later discard them, often catering to the extravagant desires of affluent older men. The film highlights society’s fixation on appearances, which are manipulated for profit and entertainment. It also touches on how we all play a role as both witnesses and victims of this troubling reality. That’s essentially the core theme of The Substance. While the idea is presented, it lacks a significant depth of exploration. Ironically, the film itself is somewhat shallow. However, it does fulfill the expectations it sets.
The name on the Walk of Fame star, which has become worn over the years, belongs to Elisabeth Sparkle (played by Demi Moore). Once a beloved actress, she has now transitioned into hosting a fitness show reminiscent of Jane Fonda's era. Sparkle remains blissfully unaware of how time has become her adversary as she revels in the memories of her past success, which are commemorated along the hallway outside her show's recording studio. That is, until she happens to overhear an executive named Harvey (played by Dennis Quaid) vocally expressing his desire for a younger and more appealing replacement for her.
Sparkle's sorrow isn't really about losing her job; it's about losing her allure. She realizes that the audience no longer desires to see her on screen because they no longer view her as attractive, despite still being the same Demi Moore. Sparkle comes to the painful realization that she can't find a way to escape this harsh reality. She's then introduced to a mysterious product referred to as 'the substance.' This product promises to reveal a younger, improved version of herself but comes with strict conditions: it can only be taken once a week, the older self (known as 'the matrix') will dominate her existence, and every morning, the youthful version (referred to as 'the other') must inject a stabilizing fluid derived from the matrix’s spinal cord.
Meet Sue (played by Margaret Qualley), a more refined version of Sparkle. She’s youthful, gorgeous, and full of energy. Sue auditions for a new fitness show and quickly captures the attention of the audience, making waves everywhere she goes. People can’t get enough of her. The camera leers at her figure with a voyeuristic fascination, suggesting that the fitness aspect is merely a pretext for all of us to admire her physique. Meanwhile, every week she begrudgingly swaps places with Elisabeth, who now lives in isolation at home, slowly becoming envious of Sue's seemingly flawless existence.
Naturally, since this is a horror movie, all established boundaries regarding the substance are violated, resulting in severe and dreadful outcomes. This is David Cronenberg's adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Fargeat reshapes the film by flipping the male perspective on its head. Her camera work feels intrusive and unsettling. The male characters come across as revolting, captured through a warped wide-angle lens that exaggerates their unpleasant traits. The portrayal of bodily fluids is ramped up to an extreme, amplifying the discomfort for viewers. In an early scene, Quaid’s character, Harvey, eats shrimp in an exceptionally off-putting manner, reminiscent of Jabba the Hutt during those surreal dream sequences featuring Ellen Burstyn in Requiem for a Dream. Each slurp as he devours the shrimp head is as nauseating as witnessing someone’s insides spill out.
The issue is that this is the only pace that *The Substance* maintains throughout. I admire Fargeat's dedication to the film's message, but it doesn't delve deeply into the shortcomings of this culture. Moore portrays Sparkle with a powerful sense of despair that resonates. You can feel her internal struggle and jealousy almost literally as she gazes at a massive billboard of Sue right outside her window. Ultimately, Elisabeth and Sue are two sides of the same coin, sharing memories yet responding in vastly different ways: Elisabeth is like a disheartened senior who has given up, while Sue embodies the attitude of a pampered teenager accustomed to having everything handed to her.
The issue at hand is that the situation spirals out of control without any meaningful development. Fargeat doesn’t seem to want to deepen her critique of toxic beauty standards and their roots in patriarchal control. Elisabeth is portrayed as a victim, a casualty of irrational capitalism (is there any other kind?), but Fargeat doesn’t allow her the opportunity to recognize this. As a result, The Substance can come off as excessively harsh to feel credible. The satire runs out of steam halfway through, only finding new energy in the final twenty minutes, when all logic is cast aside, and Fargeat embraces her most extreme ideas.
The final twenty minutes are truly remarkable—it's when the film really shines. It reminded me of the work of Brian Yuzna, an underground horror filmmaker from the 1980s who wisely concluded his movies with some of the most twisted and surreal images imaginable. I won’t spoil the details, as I doubt you'd believe them anyway. What's interesting is that this section of the film succeeds precisely because it abandons any illusion of deeper meaning to deliver pure shock value, and that's actually impressive. The tragic narrative of Elisabeth Sparkle is most effective when it refrains from being condescending towards its characters, compelling the audience to confront the monster they have helped create. However, the journey to that moment takes so long that I worry the core message becomes unclear along the way.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 For those anticipating the return of Demi Moore to the spotlight, she makes a grand comeback with such elegance and flair that it brings back memories of her reign as one of the biggest stars globally. Additionally, for enthusiasts of body horror films who often feel dismissed by their more serious film-loving peers, this film might resonate. While it may not be at the same level as Julia Ducournau's work, it's certainly on its way there.
