From Jeff Nelson

Societal beauty standards and horror go hand in hand. We’ve seen it from 1960’s Eyes Without a Face to 2016’s Raw and beyond. Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance doesn’t say anything particularly new, nor does it care to deliver its familiar message with anything subtler than a hammer to the back of the head. But, that’s precisely the film’s intention. Its rage-fueled cruelty, dark-tinged humor, and gratuitous gross-out factor are bold, unapologetic, and endlessly spellbinding.

A washed-up celebrity desperately seeks an answer to recapture her glory days. She discovers a black market drug that temporarily creates a younger, “better” version of herself that opens her life to newly-discovered pleasures that send her life into a downward spiral.

Elisabeth Sparkle’s (Demi Moore) exceptional career earned her a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, but much like the opening scene’s depiction of its degrading physical condition, she lost her luster in society’s eye. After a scummy executive overtly named Harvey (Dennis Quaid) bids her farewell from her successful run as a Jane Fonda-esque workout host, she feels lost, alone, and defunct. An ominous nurse (Robin Greer) recommends a life-changing serum in the movie’s titular drug, which graphically births the “perfect specimen” in the form of Sue (Margaret Qualley). However, this experience comes with a strict set of rules that requires both halves of one whole to work together – one week on, one week off.

Fargeat’s screenplay pits a deep-seated frustration within Elisabeth’s belly, one that has clearly been suppressed over many years. Sue initially represents a source of freedom, reigniting her confidence and self-worth in almost an act of rebellion against her true self. However, these two halves grow antagonistic toward one another, seeking their own goals resulting in permanent consequences that only grow in severity. Success for one seemingly means failure for the other – Sue’s fame blossoms, while Elisabeth’s further dwindles. Of course, all of this is by design in Fargeat’s message on femininity in society. The Substance physically and psychologically pits two women against one another within the confines of a generational divide, vying for the spotlight of their own lives and beyond. The inactive, non-conscious body lays dormant in Elisabeth’s white-tiled bathroom which feels like no less of a suffocating trap than the iconic Saw bathroom, which had its victims shackled to old piping.

Elisabeth and Sue are at the narrative's core, where the latter’s very existence and the resulting battle come from impossible beauty and aging standards held over the former’s head by the men in her life. Fargeat peeks at every man through an embarrassingly exaggerated lens, depicting them as sex-craved pigs, power-hungry misogynists, and desperate simpletons. These scenes fuel much of the dark comedy and instill a deep sense of cringe. Fargeat’s direction carries this through to the audience, ogling Sue’s body with repeated superfluous close-ups. Despite the film’s serious thematics, it’s always played with a comedic wink.

The Substance doesn’t go lightly in its gross-out moments and it isn’t for the squeamish. There are a lot of needles piercing skin, extracting and injecting various fluids. Fargeat explores the pleasures and pain of the skin, going to the extreme in distorting the flesh through horrific body horrors that rival David Cronenberg himself. The gnarly special effects are awards-worthy, building to a strikingly nasty third act with a whole lot more gore than you’re expecting. The sound design is marvelously revolting, taking the film’s nastiest scenes to another level. However, Benjamin Kracun contrasts it all with beautiful cinematography that makes small spaces feel grand and hypnotizing, concocting a seemingly endless maze out of a single apartment. Raffertie’s skittering, base-fueled score is an absolute knockout.

Moore delivers a career-defining performance, navigating Elisabeth with sensitivity, without abandoning Fargeat’s eccentric world-building. Her flashiest scene involves dissatisfaction with what she sees in the mirror while preparing for a date, creating a surprising level of gravitas. Meanwhile, Qualley matches Moore’s energy as Sue, sending a propulsive fire through the film. The Substance marks a major moment in both of their careers. Quaid makes a major statement as dirtbag Harvey, clearly having fun with the character’s foul behavior.

The Substance unveils a new tier of body horror in one of the year’s most unforgettable films. It’s intentionally in your face and excessive, but Fargeat’s unabashed storytelling style is transfixing. Moore and Qualley’s commitment to the material pulls it all together to the gory B-movie-tinged climax that will leave jaws hanging. 

Rating: 4.5/5

The Substance hits theaters on September 20th, 2024.

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