the substance (2024)
Director & writer: Coralie Fargeat
Starring: Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley, & Dennis quad
Genre: body horror
length: 2h 20m
Budget: 18 million USD
Box office: $82 million
release date: September 20, 2024
watched: March 7, 2025 (1st viewing)
Horror is not my genre. Besides being easily spooked by scary movies, it’s nonsensical. What’s the point of freaking yourself out for no reason? Why would anyone risk not being able to sleep at night? My brother watched "The Substance" a few months ago and introduced me to the concept of body horror. It didn't appeal to me at all. Even just his description made it sound repulsive.
However, more discourse around “the Substance” circulated when the film earned five Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Original Screenplay for Coralie Fargeat, Best Actress for Demi Moore and Best Makeup and Hairstyling. I couldn't help but be curious. I had to bite the bullet to see what the fuss was about. Even if it meant sacrificing a good night’s sleep, I watched “The Substance” alone late at night. Do I regret it? Not one bit.
"The Substance" is a satirical body horror that touches on women's bodies and aging through grotesque imagery. The story follows Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore), a declining celebrity, who's been fired by her producer, Harvey (Dennis Quaid), because of her age. Distraught by her self-image, Elisabeth purchases a black market drug that creates a younger and more perfect version of herself, whom she later names Sue (Margaret Qualley). To use the drug effectively, her younger and older self need to switch consciousness every seven days, without exceptions. Anything beyond seven days creates irreversible and damaging side effects.
Fair enough? In theory, sure. While Sue enjoys her overnight celebrity success and men worshipping her at every turn, Elisabeth grows bored and discontent with her life as a "has-been." One night, before Sue is scheduled to switch back to her original self, she extends her time for a few more hours to have casual sex with a stranger. This mishandling, though seemingly insignificant, manifests as a deteriorating index finger on Elisabeth’s end. Elisabeth blames Sue for the consequences she has to endure, while Sue despises Elisabeth for her self-loathing and overeating. Sue further abuses the seven-day schedule by extending her time to as far as three months, which transforms Elisabeth into a hunchbacked Gollum.
"The Substance" proves that scaring the shit out of your audience is sometimes necessary to get your point across. The film was indulgent with its use of blood, open fractures, and intestines. They had good reasons to be. Conveying the complicated psychology of women and their bodies with disturbing graphics can either be a complete masterpiece or an absolute disaster. Through Fargeat’s meticulous direction, hardworking crew, and dedicated ensemble, "The Substance," fortunately, ended up being the masterpiece it sought out to be.
Of course, not everyone agrees. Movie critic Hannah Strong writes in an article that "The Substance" fails to add anything new to the conversation about Hollywood’s obsession with beauty. She states that the film is "as shallow as the very thing it's critiquing." There’s also a lack of character depth and development, making it difficult to fully invest in the narrative. Perhaps the biggest criticism most reviewers have of this film is its incoherent and absurd ending. According to them, the last 20 minutes of the film felt that the violence was not only chaotic, but meaningless. It fell short in tying the movie together and providing a satisfying ending.
It’s true that "The Substance" technically didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. The overarching message is that beauty standards suck and you’re perfect just the way you are. Okay, we get it, man—overused and overdone. But that scene where she gets ready for date night? Elisabeth starts off self-assured, applying red lipstick to match her voluptuous red dress. But the longer she looks at herself in the mirror, she starts warping her appearance, only to end up looking worse. This is a simple scene, yet it has so much gravitas. If you can hit it where it hurts, does it matter if it has been said before?
There may be something to Strong’s comment about the film being shallow, but not in the way she’s suggesting. As an audience, we know that Elisabeth’s neurosis around her appearance is self-imposed. At the same time, you can’t help but be hypnotized by Sue’s magnificent rack. Fargeat was intent on highlighting Sue’s baby-doll sex appeal; so much so that Qualley had to undergo intensive weight training and use prosthetic breasts to achieve the “perfect body.” One may find that this film lacks the self-awareness it projects, but to me, the irony underscores the issue.
I also don’t find it necessary that we need to know Elisabeth beyond the basic details that serve the narrative. It’s enough to know that she’s an aging actress living in a swanky apartment with no family, friends, or lovers. It’s enough to know that she puts a lot of importance on her looks, as most Hollywood starlets do. It’s enough to know that Harvey disposes of her because she isn’t young anymore. The storyline is meant to be minimalist. Any more minutiae about Elisabeth will only add clutter and undermine the thematic elements it’s aiming to highlight.
Imagery was the language of the film. Every scene communicates so much, even without too much dialogue. In a Vanity Fair video, Fargeat explains that Elisabeth’s career as a famous aerobics instructor, inspired by 1980s Jane Fonda, conveys how the body can become an obsession. The precise symmetry of the studio hallway portrays the perfectionism Hollywood producers demand from their talents. The scene where Harvey takes a piss directly in front of the camera emphasizes his power. By metaphorically peeing at the audience, he’s making it known who’s the fucking boss. And don’t even get me started with him eating those shrimp.
Outside of the body horror, the movie was visually captivating. Elisabeth’s yellow coat is one of my favorite aesthetic elements. She may be the saddest bitch on the planet, but at least she has one hell of a coat. Another is the typeface of The Substance’s product instructions—sans-serif, big, bold, and condensed, limited to one sentence per card. Such minimalist font signified to me the simplicity of the rules and the implied danger of going against them.
Beyond this movie being rich with symbolism, what blows me away is its spiritual themes. When Elisabeth and Sue complain about each other to the customer service officer, he reminds them, “There is no she or I, you are one.” Apart from women’s issues, the movie tackles metaphysical truths as well. The way that this sentence is repeated throughout the film feels like it’s not only for Elisabeth and Sue, but for the audience too. It’s like the film trying to hint at the deeper truth about reality; that everything is, ultimately, one. It makes you wonder if you yourself are ‘respecting the balance.’
As far as the ending goes, I have mixed feelings. After Sue kills Elisabeth and misuses the activator serum in an attempt to survive, she mutates into "Monstro Elisasue," a hybrid of Elisabeth and Sue's bodies. Monstro Elisasue attempts to perform at the New Year's Eve show, but is bloodily attacked and destroyed. The final moment is Elisabeth's face detaching from the body and crawling to her Hollywood Walk of Fame star. She laughs hysterically and slowly dissolves into a blob.
One part of me respects the ending’s ambiguity and cynicism. I understand that Fargeat wanted it to be open-ended, rather than providing a tidy resolution. On the other hand, I wanted a tinge of hope—even if it was as tiny as a molecule. I’m not saying Fargeat needed to take back the last two hours for the sake of a happy ending. But also, she did traumatize the hell out of us. There has to be a damn good reason behind all that ruckus she put us through. You can argue that liberation could be one of the many interpretations of the ending, but somehow, even that doesn’t feel satisfactory.
Then again, it was her intention to keep us puzzled. She says in an interview, "When there is a scene that makes everyone uncomfortable and that everyone asks you to cut or to do differently, most of the time it's because there is something very powerful that you have to stick to." In fairness, I did confront some uncomfortable feelings. It made me ponder the violence within myself, and what the implications are if I left it unchecked. It’s not the easiest contemplation, but perhaps that’s exactly the point of “The Substance.”
As much as I respect Sean Baker and his work in “Anora,” Coralie Fargeat should have won best director and picture. The fact that she got me to enjoy a body horror film is enough reason why she’s deserving of an Oscar. But it’s not just that. Her attention to detail, commitment to her vision, and innovative use of visual language was evident throughout the movie. It amazes me how she barely used CGI effects and shot the film in France; you would’ve never guessed that it wasn’t in Los Angeles with the palm trees and pink walls.
Though I absolutely adore Mikey Madison, Demi Moore was robbed of an Oscar. Never mind that she’s one of the most established actresses in Hollywood. What she did in “The Substance” was out of her comfort zone, even with all the experience under her belt. Fargeat mentions in a featurette that Moore wasn’t her first choice. She didn’t think she would be willing to destroy her image. Well, she proved everyone wrong. Not only was Moore willing to reveal her physical imperfections, but the emotional depth she brought to Elisabeth was so palpable that I could see myself in her. It was also Moore’s first time to dabble with body horror, undergoing significant physical transformations with the use of prosthetics and makeup.
The two other leads weren’t any less stellar. Margaret Qualley, though nominated for best supporting actress in the Golden Globes, also deserved an Oscar nomination. It may seem as if Moore’s role is more emotionally and physically demanding, but it’s not easy to “play perfect” either. Dennis Quaid, playing the misogynistic Hollywood executive, was cartoonishly villainous. Quaid was as disgusting as he was jovial; you hate him, but you also love him.
“The Substance” is the freakiest modern movie I’ve seen in a long time. It didn’t win any Oscars, but this fact almost feels insignificant. What matters more is the film’s lasting impact on those who resonate with it. Having said that, I do see this movie standing the test of time. Mix violence, women, and aging, and you have yourself a cult classic; it’s ghoulish like “Carrie” and gory like “Kill Bill.” Seeing a female foreign director like Coralie Fargeat achieve her creative vision is inspiring to witness. She may be 48 years old, but I have a feeling that her best work may still be ahead of her.
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