In The Substance, Coralie Fargeat crafts a world where the obsession with youth and beauty drives a woman to dangerous extremes, creating a tale that melds body horror, dark humor, and societal critique into one mesmerizing experience. The film may not be subtle in its messaging, but it thrives on its audacity, delivering a bold narrative that pushes boundaries and offers up a visceral reflection on the pressures that shape women’s lives.
At the heart of The Substance is Demi Moore, playing Elisabeth Sparkle in what many might consider her most powerful performance to date. Elisabeth is a former Hollywood star who now hosts a fitness show, offering viewers a polished but increasingly dated version of herself. Her role as a symbol of perfection, however, is shattered when her misogynistic boss, Harvey (Dennis Quaid), abruptly fires her in favor of a younger, more vibrant host. This decision sets Elisabeth on a downward spiral, one that is as psychological as it is physical.
In an act of desperation, Elisabeth turns to The Substance, a mysterious liquid that promises to restore her youth. This transformation introduces her to Sue, played with eerie charm by Margaret Qualley. Sue is the younger, more beautiful version of Elisabeth, embodying everything that Elisabeth has lost—or at least believes she has lost. But the miracle of The Substance comes with its own set of disturbing rules: Elisabeth and Sue must share one life, alternating bodies every seven days, a dynamic that quickly becomes dangerous as both women vie for control.
Fargeat’s vision for The Substance is one that challenges both its characters and its viewers, forcing them to confront the societal standards that demand women remain forever youthful, no matter the cost.
The film’s body horror elements, reminiscent of David Cronenberg’s work, are used to highlight the grotesque nature of this pursuit. When Elisabeth’s spine splits open to birth Sue, the visual horror mirrors the emotional toll of losing one’s identity to an impossible standard of beauty. It’s a transformation that is as grotesque as it is metaphorical, illustrating the lengths women are pressured to go to maintain their relevance in a world that values appearance over substance.
As Elisabeth watches Sue take over her life—landing her old job, attracting attention, and embodying the idealized version of herself—she becomes increasingly desperate to reclaim what she has lost. This tension builds throughout the film, creating a dynamic between the two women that feels both tragic and inevitable. Moore’s portrayal of Elisabeth is filled with a quiet rage, a sense of helplessness that comes from realizing that no matter how hard she tries, she cannot escape the societal forces that have shaped her life. One of the film’s most poignant moments occurs when Elisabeth, preparing for a date, stares at her reflection in the mirror, dissatisfied with what she sees.
It’s a scene that feels all too familiar—an indictment of thebeauty standards that leave so many women feeling inadequate, no matter how hard they try to meet them.
Margaret Qualley’s Sue, on the other hand, represents the seductive allure of youth. She is charming, energetic, and seemingly perfect, but as the film progresses, it becomes clear that Sue is as much a victim of these standards as Elisabeth.
Qualley’s performance is layered, shifting from innocent to sinister as Sue begins to push the boundaries of her existence, staying in her younger form for longer than allowed and threatening to erase Elisabeth entirely.
The dynamic between Moore and Qualley is electric, with both actresses bringing depth and complexity to their roles. Sue’s gradual rebellion against the rules of The Substance mirrors Elisabeth’s increasing desperation, creating a tension that builds to a shocking and inevitable conclusion.
Dennis Quaid’s portrayal of Harvey is another standout in the film. Harvey is a caricature of Hollywood’s most toxic elements—misogynistic, self-absorbed, and completely unaware of the damage he causes. Quaid’s performance is delightfully over-the-top, providing a darkly comedic counterpoint to the film’s more serious themes. In one particularly memorable scene, Harvey devours a plate of shrimp with gleeful abandon, a moment that perfectly encapsulates his character’s complete lack of self-awareness. It’s a performance that is both hilarious and deeply unsettling, serving as a reminder of the film industry’s disregard for the women it so easily discards.
The Substance is not just a film about body horror; it’s a film about identity and the way society shapes that identity, particularly for women. Elisabeth’s transformation into Sue is not just a physical one—it’s a reflection of the internal transformation she undergoes as she struggles to reconcile who she is with who she feels she is supposed to be. Fargeat uses the horror elements of the film to explore the psychological toll of these societal pressures, showing how the pursuit of perfection can lead to self-destruction.
The film’s visuals are as striking as its narrative, with cinematographer Benjamin Kracun creating a world that feels both glamorous and grotesque. The neon colors and surreal settings give the film a dreamlike quality, heightening the sense of unreality that permeates Elisabeth’s world. Fargeat’s use of extreme close-ups—whether it’s the injection of The Substance or the grotesque bodily transformations—draws viewers into the visceral horror of the story, making the film’s themes feel even more immediate and impactful.
That being said, The Substance is not perfect. The film’s pacing falters in its third act, with some scenes feeling drawn out and repetitive. While the film’s climax delivers the necessary shock and horror, it lacks the emotional payoff that the rest of the film seems to build towards. Some of the supporting characters, particularly Quaid’s Harvey, can feel overly exaggerated at times, which occasionally undermines the film’s more serious moments. Yet these flaws are minor in comparison to the film’s overall ambition and execution.
At its core, The Substance is a film about the dangers of living in a world that values appearance over substance. It’s a story about the pressure to conform to societal standards, and the way those standards can erode a person’s sense of self.
Fargeat’s film may be extreme in its execution, but the themes it explores are all too real. For many women, the pressure to maintain a youthful, idealized version of oneself is a constant presence, and The Substance forces viewers to confront the ways in which these pressures shape our lives.
Demi Moore’s performance is a revelation, capturing the vulnerability and rage of a woman who has spent her life trying to meet impossible standards. Margaret Qualley’s Sue is the perfect counterpoint, representing both the allure and the danger of chasing perfection. Together, they create a dynamic that is as compelling as it is unsettling, making The Substance one of the most thought-provoking films of the year.
Ultimately, The Substance is a film that asks difficult questions about identity, beauty, and self-worth. It’s a visceral, unsettling experience that will leave viewers thinking long after the credits roll. For fans of body horror, dark satire, and socially-conscious filmmaking, The Substance is a must-see—a film that challenges its audience to look beyond the surface and confront the deeper, more disturbing truths that lie beneath.
