THE SUBSTANCE (2024)

Studio:   Mubi
Director: Coralie Fargeat
Writer:   Coralie Fargeat
Producer: Coralie Fargeat, Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner
Stars:    Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley, Dennis Quaid

Review Score:


Summary:

An aging celebrity undergoes shocking transformations when she injects a mysterious substance that creates a younger alter ego.


Synopsis:     

Review:

The first thing "The Substance" both wants and needs you to know is it does not take place in reality. Most movies that show a 555 phone number only do so when absolutely necessary, and only briefly, so as not to disturb an audience's immersion with a sore thumb reminder that they're watching a work of fiction. "The Substance" displays multiple 555 phone numbers prominently, repeatedly, and deliberately. It's one of several regular reminders that this movie's version of Hollywood is meant to have its artificiality magnified even more than the real city.

"The Substance" starts with workers installing a star for Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) on the Walk of Fame. The sidewalk doesn't look like any stretch of Hollywood Boulevard I've ever seen, but people outside of Los Angeles don't know that. They might, however, know Southern California doesn't experience traditional winters, so when snow falls on the star, everyone should be on the same page that we've entered a sideways satire where not everything should be taken literally.

From paparazzi flashbulbs at the unveiling to passersby muttering "Remember her?" and dropping a sloppy burger on the gold lettering, this single shot takes us through years of the sidewalk star's physical deterioration. Running for over two uninterrupted minutes, "The Substance" doesn't need half this much time to instill the obvious idea that Elisabeth's former superstar status has faded into the border of irrelevancy. This is only the first of several sequences extended for durations longer than the narrative requires. Such scenes don't drag. You don't feel slowness. Rather, you feel the film is feeding from an overfull plate, being symbolically excessive on purpose to reflect one of the movie's many themes.

Writer/director Coralie Fargeat borrows visual cues from classics including "The Shining," "Re-Animator," "Psycho," and "2001: A Space Odyssey" to augment imagery. But Fargeat writes the rest of the movie in a cinematic language all her own. Contrasts of color. Over-expressive characters wearing vapid faces to make them read like preprogrammed automatons. Everything amplifies Fargeat's announcement that once you press Play, you're in "The Substance's" fantastical world now.

In this place, Elisabeth's solution to regaining her diminished popularity involves a mysterious process simply called The Substance. Once again, Fargeat knows precisely what she's communicating by dressing Elisabeth in a bright yellow coat and designer sunglasses, only for her to brave a graffiti-filled alleyway to find what she's searching for. A busted metal door rises only a few feet off the ground, forcing Elisabeth to crouch in a moment indicative of how low she'll go, and how she's willing to risk anything in pursuit of the glamorous vanity she's been bred to see as integral to existence.

More painful than plastic surgery, The Substance gives Elisabeth an alter ego, Sue (Margaret Qualley), who rips right out of her back. A younger, more beautiful, more perfect version of Elisabeth, Sue replaces her as a more marketable commodity, which greatly pleases an insensitive producer not-so-subtly named Harvey (Dennis Quaid). The hitch is Elisabeth and Sue are one being, and only one of them can be conscious at a time. Every seven days, they must switch places, without exception. As her stardom grows, Sue ignores the inconvenience of that last stipulation, and her selfish breaking of the strict rules has increasingly grotesque consequences for Elisabeth's body.

Unbothered with fitting into a singular mold, "The Substance" becomes a dark fable about desire, self-destruction, and unachievable standards perverted by social constructs. When Harvey hires Sue for a new show, it's literally advertised as "New Show." It doesn't need a name. Eager masses will gobble up whatever canned meat gets dropped in their bowl. Even in small details like this, "The Substance" has a lot to say on the subjects of fame, attractiveness, and their roles in disposable entertainment. The movie speaks specifically to women, but not exclusively. More broadly, "The Substance" is about hating one's self, which has universal meaning unrelated to gender.

Even if the story doesn't speak to you, or if you're turned off by the tempo or tone, "The Substance" undeniably impresses as authentic auteur cinema. It's everything a movie can be: dramatic, funny, frightening, contemplative, timely and timeless. Strip down "The Substance" to its bare bones of body horror and you'll see some of the most stunning creature designs and astonishing makeup FX ever put onscreen. From the deceptive simplicity of Elisabeth's first gnarled finger to the final reveal of a mutant monstrosity, a steady stream of surrealistic sights swirls into a crashing crescendo of chaotic terror that Gordon, Yuzna, Nicotero, Jackson, and other splatter pioneers dreamed of, but it couldn't be so richly realized until Fargeat found the final destination on the path they paved.

I'm not sure if hyperbole hurts that preceding declaration, but "The Substance" is an unsettling A-list experience combined with beautiful B-movie aesthetics. Between the impressive stunts, creative shot designs, and effects that will have people flinching from needle punctures and fallen fingernails to torn-out teeth and a bonkers, blood-gushing finale, I repeatedly found my gaping mouth asking, how did anyone think to do this? Coralie Fargeat and "The Substance" showed me things I've never seen before alongside things I didn't even know a movie could do. There's nothing quite like "The Substance," so viewers would be wise to activate its insanity and enter a uniquely warped world of incredible weirdness.

Review Score: 85