The core themes of writer/director Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance are not complex or hard to decipher. There is a cruelty in the world’s beauty standards for women, with multiple industries profiting off of that cruelty, and the film is an extreme satire exploring that reality. That straightforwardness also extends into in the minimalist scope and aesthetic, as there are really only three principal scene locations, and there is a heavy lean into symbolism leaving the broader details of the world vague.
There is an on-paper simplicity to the movie – but that’s not a proper reflection of what is one of the most audacious, engrossing, horrifying, hilarious and wild cinematic experiences of the year.
It’s difficult to sum up The Substance because it is so deeply satisfying. Its feminist rage is rich and palpable, the story putting a body horror, female-centric spin on The Portrait Of Dorian Gray. But it’s also an exceptional execution of craft – a reference to both the phenomenal performances by stars Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, as well as the stunning and disgusting special effects work. It’s intoxicating, riotous and, to date, the best film of 2024.
Moore plays Elisabeth Sparkle – an Oscar-winning actress and TV personality who is instantly deemed over-the-hill on her 50th birthday and fired as the host of her daytime aerobics program. Her distraught state in the aftermath leads to a car accident, and when she goes to the doctor, a nurse (Robin Greer) checks her out and slips her information about a special procedure called The Substance.
Following the injection of a neon green activation serum, the users literally experience the emergence of a younger, perfect version of themselves. This new version identifies herself as Sue (Margaret Qualley), but there’s an important trade-off: Elisabeth and Sue must live in balance, with one awake and conscious for seven days while the other is comatose and taking food intravenously.
The problem, of course, is that there isn’t an equal balance. While Sue is hired as Elisabeth’s replacement by Harvey (Dennis Quaid), the revolting misogynist who fired her progenitor, and lives the glamorous life afforded to her by her youth and beauty, Elisabeth spends her waking days isolated from the world in her spacious apartment growing evermore resentful. Feeling entitled, Sue starts stealing extra time from her other half, and it winds up having grotesque consequences.
The Substance overflows with brilliant, disgusting, and hilarious body horror.
The Substance is an awesome accomplishment of design, from the clinical-yet-do-it-yourself instructions of the titular procedure, to all of its aspects of artful escalation. The latter is an essential quality in body horror, as the ugly and terrible always has to get worse and worse, and Coralie Fargeat’s understanding of this yields genius results. The filmmaker prepares your palette early with repulsive close-ups of Harvey’s mouth as he sucks down cream sauce-slathered shrimp while firing Elisabeth, and your stomach will get turning as the protagonist writhes naked on her titled bathroom floor, her back violently splitting open to allow Sue’s “birth.” But that’s merely the opening salvo of the insanity.
Sue’s body requires daily injections of a spinal fluid from Elisabeth in order to stabilize (movie-goers with needle-based fears be warned now), and as extracting extra doses for additional time takes a terrible toll on the fluid’s source, The Substance gets more and more horrifically hypnotizing. Elisabeth is driven to seclusion early on in the story as a result of society crushing every atom of her self-esteem, but that’s further compounded by her monstrous transformation (and it’s psychologically fascinating to witness her inability to terminate the program). You will discover new physical limits for your mandible as you witness the deterioration of her body, starting with her hand, but constantly getting more terrible.
In perfect contrast to the ugly, rotting life of Elisabeth is the dazzling existence of Sue – full of the brightest of bright lights, the tightest of tight dresses and aerobic costumes, and the constant attention of the camera lens. It’s so gratuitously sexy that it becomes hilarious, and threading that particular needle simultaneously with the over-the-top body horror is the core of what makes the film so special. It compels you to sweat, vomit and laugh, which is a magical tonal achievement.
Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley deliver two of the best performances of 2024 in The Substance.
The Substance is all about showing instead of telling, and while that ultimately proves to be exceptionally demanding for the film’s stars, both Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley are magnificent. Beyond the intense physicality for both actors – including bold nudity and metamorphosis – they are what set the stakes and attitude.
In Moore’s case, what’s most impressive is her emotional range. You can practically see the tar of anger boiling inside her as she stares out her apartment’s floor-to-ceiling windows at a giant billboard for Sue’s show and watches her younger, perfect self giggle while being interviewed on a talk show – but that fury is counterbalanced by a staggering fragility. The world has stolen all of her confidence, and you empathize with her deeply as she does battle with herself trying to get ready after she summons up the courage to go on a date.
Qualley’s assignment has a wholly different energy, but it’s no less outstanding. While Elisabeth is deficient in self-confidence, Sue is the embodiment of it, and the young actress exudes infinite charisma and sex appeal just batting her eyelashes. Her dynamism – enhanced by her shimmering world – has impactful side-effects, however, as her perfection emotionally evolves into entitlement, putting her at war with her other half. Where that eventually goes… takes us too far into spoiler territory in this venue.
I don’t have a set list of positive qualities I look for when seeing any new movie, but I will always appreciation the combination of smart, funny, and fucked up, and that’s what The Substance delivers in its 140 minute runtime. In an era that is seeing growing broad appreciation for great original horror, Coralie Fargeat’s second feature film is a standout success and a must-see for anyone who can stomach it.