The ingenue. The IT girl. The Hottie. The Sexpot. Hollywood has all sorts of names for the same thing: the beautiful, 18-35 year old woman who all women want to be and all straight men want to be with. So what happens when you become 36? Coralie Fargeat gives us The Substance, and we see how precipitous, and grotesque, the fall from heights like than can be…and no one cares because there’s always someone right behind you.
Elizabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) has had amazing career: she’s got an Oscar, and a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and a decent network job as a TV fitness instructor. But alas, despite a long hallway of accolades, producer Harvey (Dennis Quaid) forces Liz off the air in favor of a fresh face. After a car accident, a nurse (Robin Greer) decides Elizabeth is a “perfect candidate” for The Substance, slipping a USB into her coat. Desperate and alone, Liz decides to give it a whirl, transforming her temporarily into “Sue” (Margaret Qualley), everything Liz desperately wants to be…that fresh face Harvey is looking for on his next morning show.
The Substance is for all intensive purposes truth serum for the audience about the brutal cycles of Hollywood, when it comes to women. The opening sets us up, as we watch the fresh creation of a Hollywood Walk of Fame star slowly become just another sidewalk you can spill your dinner onto. Poor Elizabeth is in her Norma Desmond phase, convinced she’s still at the top of her game despite Harvey and the other gross men in power force her to think otherwise. The Substance is her big out, letting Liz become Sue, that 25 year old IT girl she needs to be to keep herself happy. The Activator sequence is horrifying to watch, as our main character splits herself into two, despite the insistence on the Substance’s creator that both Sue and Liz are one. Writer/Director Coralie Fargeat paints in the ugliest detail possible the diverging lives of Liz and Sue as the Substance takes hold. Liz’s outer Sue couldn’t be more virile and desirable, while the honest Elizbeth is confined to two dark rooms, eating herself silly and withering away alone, forced to stare at giant billboards of her younger self, as if mocking her every second she isn’t Sue. As such, younger Sue starts to win out, but crucially, cannot sever herself fully from Elizabeth, forgetting the oneness necessary to keep themselves both alive. Liz’s inability to balance her life culminates in Fargeat’s grand finale, which is going to shock a bunch of people and make them very, very sick. While disgusted by what we’re seeing forced to look away, The Substance’s thematic pull brings you back, hammering home what Hollywood has to offer girls who want to be famous: unfair gender dynamics, the consequences of drug abuse, patriarchal insistence on female and generational competition and transfer, and most importantly, the true rewards of a desire for fame above all else.
In addition to the movie throwing up its themes early and often, The Substance is also a terrific modernization of the female movie star in two walks of life. First off, the proppest of props to Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, completely committing to Fargeat’s story and vision for Elizabeth and Sue. Qualley, on purpose, has never been more demure and beautiful that she is here. Sue’s “Pump It Up” is basically just close up shots of her ass shaking and lips ready to blow something, a walking version of female sexuality though a man’s eyes. Qualley physically put in the work, and when the story asks her to, she also plays the less desirable emotional parts of Elizabeth to deliver on a big emotional moment. But the standout here is Demi Moore, who basically IS Elizabeth Sparkle. From the get go, Moore is also fearless in how naked figuratively and literally she is onscreen, with a dark sense of humor that gives Liz Sparkle and edge. Moore gets even better as the story goes along and any beauty she had leaves her body. There’s an incredible sequence where an old sweet acquaintance asks her out on a date, but Liz cannot accept that view of herself anymore. It’s heartbreaking to watch, as Moore wordlessly, powerfully, drives home how a life of vanity affects someone’s self-esteem. Like the horny vapid man that I am, I forgot amongst the Striptease’s of the world that Moore when pushed to act can really deliver a great performance, and The Substance is probably going to be the acting performance I will remember Demi Moore most for.
If you have a queasy stomach, do NOT see The Substance. That’s too bad though, because you’re missing out on one of the best of the year. Also, let’s get more female French Directors to come to the US to make body horror movies? Between Coralie Fargeat and Julia Ducourneau, no one’s more dementedly fascinated with women’s bodies and how to critique oogling men about them than the French. Bon travail!