The Substance: A Gory and Satirical Take on Celebrity and Identity

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Dec 29

Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley deliver riveting performances in The Substance, a harrowing exploration of human ambition, power dynamics, and the terrifying consequences of unchecked scientific advancement.

Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance is a bold and audacious cinematic exploration of fame, identity, and the burdensome weight of societal expectations. Starring Demi Moore in one of her most transformative roles to date, this provocative blend of horror and satire takes an unflinching look at the corrosive effects of celebrity culture and the absurd standards imposed on female beauty.

Moore plays Elisabeth Sparkle, an aging star whose life has been defined by her physical appearance and the relentless gaze of others. A celebrated actress turned celebrity fitness guru, Elisabeth finds herself discarded by Hollywood’s unforgiving machine, personified by a sleazy, power-wielding executive named Harvey (Dennis Quaid). Her world collapses as she confronts the loss of her identity, which has always been tied to her image. The film’s early scenes, laden with mirrors and photographs of Elisabeth in her prime, underscore her descent into existential despair, as she realizes she is no longer the person the world admired.

The turning point comes with the introduction of the titular substance—a mysterious treatment promising rejuvenation and reinvention. But this miracle comes at a grotesque cost: Elisabeth undergoes a nightmarish transformation, giving literal birth to a younger, more glamorous version of herself named Sue (Margaret Qualley). Sue becomes the embodiment of everything Elisabeth once was: radiant, adored, and professionally in demand. Yet, as Sue eclipses Elisabeth in the public eye, the film veers into a macabre meditation on identity, possession, and the dangers of self-erasure.

Margaret Qualley is mesmerizing as Sue, channeling an eerie blend of innocence and calculation. Her performance contrasts sharply with Moore’s raw vulnerability, creating a dynamic that is as unsettling as it is captivating. The two actresses bring depth to a relationship that is simultaneously symbiotic and parasitic, blurring the lines between empowerment and exploitation. Their shared consciousness—a central conceit of the film—raises profound questions about individuality and the fragmentation of the self.

Fargeat, who previously delivered the visceral feminist revenge thriller Revenge, proves once again that she is a master of subversive storytelling. The film’s satirical edge is razor-sharp, particularly in its portrayal of the entertainment industry. Harvey’s grotesque objectification of women and the camera’s exaggerated ogling of Sue’s body serve as biting critiques of the male gaze, pushing the audience to confront their complicity in a culture that commodifies physical beauty.

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The film’s aesthetic is equally arresting. Cinematographer Benjamin Kracun crafts a surreal, almost dreamlike visual world that exists outside of time. Brutalist architecture and retro interiors give the setting an uncanny quality, while the use of vibrant lighting and reflective surfaces amplifies the film’s themes of self-perception and vanity. The bathroom scene, in which Elisabeth’s transformation begins, is particularly striking, combining clinical sterility with visceral body horror to create an unforgettable sequence.

The screenplay, also penned by Fargeat, walks a delicate line between absurdity and profundity. While the film’s over-the-top moments may alienate some viewers, they are undeniably effective in driving home its commentary on societal expectations. The dialogue is biting and often darkly humorous, with Elisabeth’s interactions with Harvey and Sue brimming with tension and subtext. The script’s willingness to embrace the grotesque—both literal and metaphorical—underscores the lengths to which people will go to reclaim their perceived value.

Thematically, The Substance delves into the psychology of aging, the allure of reinvention, and the destructiveness of living for others’ approval. Its exploration of the “mirror effect”—the way we construct our identities based on how we believe others see us—is both timely and timeless. Elisabeth’s journey is a cautionary tale, not just for those in the spotlight but for anyone who feels trapped by societal standards.

The film’s climactic act descends into madness, with Elisabeth and Sue’s shared existence unraveling in spectacularly gory fashion. Fargeat does not shy away from the grotesque, using blood and viscera as tools to emphasize the physical and emotional toll of Elisabeth’s choices. The final scenes, both horrifying and darkly poetic, leave a lasting impression, challenging viewers to reflect on their own relationship with beauty and identity.

However, The Substance is not without its flaws. The narrative occasionally succumbs to heavy-handedness, with certain metaphors spelled out too explicitly. Additionally, the film’s pacing can feel uneven, particularly in its slower middle section. But these minor shortcomings are outweighed by its daring ambition and the strength of its performances.