'The Substance' Review: A Disgustingly Rich Dive Into Inner Beauty
Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley go for broke in Coralie Fargeat's audacious body horror film
If there’s one thing Coralie Fargeat’s movie The Substance does well is it defines the definition of the word “squelch.” Make no mistake, that single sound will run through your brain long after the credits are over. The Substance is a movie that, at various times, is garish, outlandish, disgusting, prescient, traumatic and sad. Sometimes one or two of those feelings happen in the same scene. But as the audience goes on an emotional rollercoaster, and tries hard to keep their gag reflex in check, they’re also treated to a dark tale of aging and misogyny anchored by one of the best performances of the year in actress Demi Moore.
Moore plays Elizabeth Sparkle, a fitness star who has seemingly hit the brick wall women in the public eye often hit: being over 50. When her boss (Dennis Quaid going for peak grossness) tells Elizabeth they need to find someone fresher (and younger), she can’t handle it. She learns about something called “The Substance,” a mysterious serum that is promised to change her life.
There’s a heavy amount of Death Becomes Her Vibes found within The Substance, albeit where that film went for over-the-top with its connection between aging and preserving the body, this film illustrates how low people will go to preserve their youth. In this case, Elizabeth has no problem injecting herself with a glowing liquid that looks like a melted highlighter. The emphasis on the grotesque is ramped up to 12 here, with cinematographer Benjamin Kracun’s camera getting up close to spinal injections, extended stitching sequences, and every pustule and infected needle mark to be found.
The Substance certainly does it’s job, crafting a younger, enhanced version of Elizabeth in Sue (Margaret Qualley). Fargeat, who also wrote the script, presents a fascinating, complex story of identity within the two women. Elizabeth is told “there is no her, only you.” Yet the two women see themselves as separate entities. Sue, whose scenes are filmed like a teen pop music video, is vapid yet ambitious. Qualley’s big doe eyes and babydoll voice she puts on sells the concept of a sex bomb with a “pure heart,” as her producer says. She has no problem immediately filling Elizabeth’s role at her job, albeit turning Elizabeth’s fitness empire into more an social media-esque way to make women feel bad about themselves.
As Sue complains to the put-upon Substance rep — a monotone voice on the end of the phone — about how Elizabeth “stuffs her face all day,” Liz is doing that as well as growing increasingly jealous at her younger form’s success. The two have a Felix and Oscar dynamic fueled by their mutual drive for power over events they can’t control. Elizabeth, though, is driving the train and what Fargeat’s script does so expertly is illustrate how many chances Elizabeth has to right the ship begging the question of why we act against our own self-interest? How much of us complaining about our lives is fueled by a desire for a quick fix and not having to deal with the hard work?
Qualley is fabulous as conveying Sue’s drive and complete lack of sympathy for what Elizabeth has lost. But everyone pales in comparison to Moore. Demi Moore has been giving us gold in her performances for decades and anyone believing she’s just now showing her best in this movie has missed out on a lot. (And all those citing her as brave for the nude scenes in her…go back to the numerous 2004 articles on her rocking a bikini in Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle, which is amazing, by the way.) She goes for broke in every scene, illustrating the sadness of her situation. At the same time, she’s a master of the more comedic scenes, particularly as she starts to treat Sue like a wayward child or partner that can’t respect her.
And yet the question the script leaves the audience with is “Why can’t we respect ourselves?” Why do, especially women, beat up their self-confidence so much? Part of this is societally, as seen in Dennis Quaid’s Harvey, an appropriately named misogynist who literally consumes things with little regard for anyone else. (This movie might have the most disgusting eating scene in history.) Harvey tells Elizabeth she is no longer desirable because of her age, and yet Elizabeth could choose to ignore it. Instead, as so often happens, she allows others to bring her down. And while The Substance is supposed to change her life — the implication being that it will give her what she wants — the audience is left to question whether the problem really is outsiders or Elizabeth’s own inner self-loathing.
And that inner torment manifests physically with some of the grossest makeup effects I’ve seen in awhile. Olivier Afonso is a master with the makeup, particularly in the third act when the two versions of Elizabeth start to meld and as Elizabeth starts to suffer the consequences of not balancing between herself and Sue. This is coupled with some viscerally cringe-inducing sound design that captures every crack, snap and, yes, the dreaded squelch.
Elizabeth and Sue’s interactions back and forth growing increasingly outsized, leading to a literal third-act monster that takes the movie into complete absurdism. It’s enough to test the audiences’ patience, a fact already tested by the nearly 2.5 hours.
The Substance will test your stomach (and your patience) but it’s all worth it! Demi Moore is riveting and Coralie Fargeat’s script is a dark, satirical phantasmagoria that, if you’re part of the group that loves it, will be ride or die.
Grade: B+
The Substance is in theaters this Friday.
I just got out of the theater. It was just me and two young women seated for it. Felt like two or three movies wrapped in one, but shared the same attitude. Like the leads/chapters of the film. "It's like poetry, it rhymes" as George Lucas would say. I loved it. Review coming Friday. letterboxd.com/billreviews | moviegoing.rocks
"This movie might have the most disgusting eating scene in history."
I can think of contenders!!
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