‘The Substance’ Review

For the entire history of entertainment, aging women, however talented, have been shamelessly discarded in favor of younger, hotter models. For almost as long, this habit has served as thematic hunting ground in art, perhaps most elegantly in ‘All About Eve’, the 1950 Best Picture winner about a Broadway star who is forced to witness her career be overtaken by her younger understudy. Versions of this story have been handled throughout the years with varying degrees of nuance and depth, but never before has it been made so literal and nasty as in ‘The Substance’.

Our protagonist is Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore), a former Hollywood starlet reduced to performing on an exercise TV show, and now fired even from that. Seeing how quickly the industry is willing to throw her away, she explores a mysterious treatment, the substance, that promises her the ability to create a younger, more beautiful version of herself so long as she abides by certain rules: most importantly, the older and younger versions must switch back and forth every seven days. But as her younger version, Sue (Margaret Qualley), begins to enjoy all of the success and glamour of life as a young Hollywood starlet, a mere seven days no longer seems enough, and boundaries are pushed with shocking but inevitable consequences.

Similar to recent horror films such as ‘It Follows’, this movie seems to exist outside of time. Yes, there are modern trappings such as smart phones and contemporary cars, but much of the aesthetic and subject matter feels ripped from an earlier time, the 1980s. The primary entertainment is a workout TV show, and the climax is a New Year’s Eve concert in a quaint auditorium. The messaging is modern, but the anachronisms communicate that this struggle is not specific to the here and now.

The majority of this film is a two hander, split between Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley as two versions of the same person. Qualley is fun and unapologetic in her performance, relishing in all the luxuries her beauty provides her, but it’s Moore who is given the meatier bits. She is insecure and angry, desperate to be loved for who she is, but unable to love herself. In one scene, she arranges a date with a former schoolmate, though it’s obvious that for most of their lives she was seen as out of his league. As she gets ready for her date, she keeps applying and reapplying makeup, trying to attain an unattainable level of beauty, trying to become the younger version of herself. Eventually, she smears off the makeup in defeat, standing up her date as she sits in darkness on her bed, crying. It’s a devastating moment delivered with care by Moore, who makes this oft frustrating character, desperate in her pursuit for shallow beauty, sympathetic.

As a foil to the women, Dennis Quaid plays a sleazy, garish studio executive, Harvey, constantly presented in the least attractive ways possible. Director Coralie Fargeat frequently uses fish eye lenses, and in one particular scene involving a shellfish lunch, her camera relishes in exploring his mouth, his sauce soaked hands, and the discarded shells, yelling at the audience and the women in the film to see him as the warped monster. As the women fight their own bodies in hopes of maintaining their grasp on stardom, here’s a man unaware or uncaring of his own appearance, secure that no matter how he ages he’ll still have power.

Fargeat delivers a stylish and confident horror comedy, pulling together inspirations as disparate as Stanley Kubrick, Suzanne Somers, and over-sexed soda commercials. She explores the human body in all of its contradictions, as an object of desire and disgust, sex appeal and repulsion. For a film that’s almost two and a half hours, some of the shots linger too long, some of the themes are made too obvious, but it’s easy to forgive these drawbacks as the body horror escalates.

And escalate it does. As the plot races along, the transgressions and consequent nightmares accelerate, escalating at a delirious and comical pace. This is not a movie for the squeamish, as bodies are abused and deformed in shocking and thrilling ways and the camera shies away from none of it.

If you’re interested in a more delicate, subtle exploration of how art and society casts aside women as they age, how buying into the system and resisting your body’s natural changes is futile, you’re in the wrong place. The bluntness is the point. As these women fall apart, they know that they’re racing to a bitter conclusion, but they can’t help themselves from hanging on to their glory just a little longer. And the resulting film is monstrous fun.

The Substance
Rated R for strong bloody violent content, gore, graphic nudity and language
Running Time: 2 hours and 21 minutes

Director Coralie Fargeat
Writers Coralie Fargeat
Stars Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley, Dennis Quaid
Rating R
Running Time 141 Minutes
Genres Comedy, Drama, Horror