In his 1979 song “My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue), “Neil Young says the lyrics, “It is better to burn out than fade away. Within the first moments of writer/director Coralie Fargeat’s blunt body horror critique, The Substance, the camera focuses on one star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. When this accolade is fresh, there’s a celebration and lots of admiration from fans. However, it slowly fades away into the background of the sidewalks like other stars before it. There are cracks and even accidental food drops on top like the industry (or society in general) tends to throw away what they deem old for the new and shiny. While metaphors are present in The Substance, the message is blunt – a middle finger to those who have hijacked the aging process and exploited it to make women feel lesser.
The film has influences from Stuart Gordon’s Reanimator and David Chronenberg’s The Fly, but Fargeat can only provide from her experiences with a bite of rage. There is a clock; with that, there is one within us and the other side we can’t control. In this case, the periphery of fame will make people stare into a mirror and go to any lengths to get those days of youth back. Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) might be considering approaching the twilight of her career – but everything seems to be going well. With a Jane Fonda-like reference, she has a fitness show called “Sparkle Your Life with Elisabeth” that is steady. That’s until a meeting with sleazy network executive Harvey (Dennis Quaid) decides to fire her on her 50th birthday—no rhyme or reason other than he deems that she’s too old. This is all the while disgustingly snarfing down seafood in front of her.
Demi Moore In ‘The Substance’ / Photo Credit: MUBI
Sadly, Elisabeth is left with nothing but billboards of her likeness being torn down and pictures of her younger self at home taunting her. Given the craziness that will soon ensue, these moments in Fargeat’s film are the most haunting. An abundance of social media, filters, likes, and unadulterated snaps from strangers have all made us self-conscious to a degree. If we aren’t careful, it encases us in a wholly negative feedback loop based on others’ perceptions. Elisabeth’s sorrow is relatable – especially when you consider her high-rise apartment is full of relics of what her “former life” was (even with a tone-deaf bouquet from the studio with a card saying, “You were amazing?” to rub salt in the wound).
In that vulnerable state comes a possible solution called The Substance. Elisabeth speaks to a nondescript man over the phone, who provides her with instructions on how to get a package with a mysterious green liquid, syringes, and other items. The promise is to become a better version of yourself born entirely from your own DNA. Sounds great! During the first administration of The Substance, you see that this is exceptionally literal – another version of Elisabeth crawls out of her back and bores the name Sue (Margaret Qualley). Now, remember that Sue and Elisabeth are essentially one, whereas Sue is the younger, fresh-coat-of-paint person Elisabeth wants to be.
Margaret Qualley in ‘The Substance’ / Photo Credit: MUBI
Cinematographer Benjamin Kracun makes that distinction known in how he highlights Sue’s character – the colors are brighter, there is more emphasis on her body, and it’s for an exaggerated amount of time. That’s the point. It’s the lens of superficiality that men and higher-ups like Harvey view women through. When Sue arrives on the scene, it’s a match made in heaven. She gets a brand new show, and it’s everything Elisabeth could want. However, there are always rules to abide by. Each version should be on a seven-day switch-off pattern emphasizing that Elisabeth and Sue are one. Even if the details of how this is possible are scant, Fargeat makes it up with the worlds in which both characters exist.
RELATED MOVIE REVIEWS:
‘Trap’s Strength Is Inside The Methodical Flow of Josh Hartnett
‘Longlegs’ Is A Road Paved With Devilish Intentions
Elisabeth’s environment grows even more dour and depressing as time goes on. How that stress, anxiety, and sadness are conveyed falls into the skillful hands of Demi Moore. The most hard-hitting scene of The Substance arguably may not be the insane events that occur in the third act. It happens with Elisabeth in a war with the bathroom mirror before she’s due to go out. Moore conveys the unfortunate ways Elisabeth’s self-esteem has gotten so warped here; it heightens the nature of sadness in the film. Slowly, but indeed, Sue’s modern world starts to gobble up Elisabeth’s – a clash of eras where one is beginning to win out clearly. But there are rules, and a perfect balance of seven days is supposed to be struck. The longer Sue stays, the more directly she takes from Elisabeth.
It’s thrilling to see Fargeat take her hands off the wheel and let The Substance veer off into some genuinely gory, funny, and bleak territory in its last thirty minutes. Even before then, Fargeat’s thesis aimed at the industry’s self-distortion field and all the sleazy, blatant ways it’s used to police women’s self-perceptions and bodies. The adage, “the camera loves you,” doesn’t apply when we adhere to superficial markers, and Fargeat is blunt and bloody in that assessment.
Photo Credit: Mubi
