Demi Moore as Elisabeth Sparkle in a scene from "The Substance." (Photo courtesy of MUBI).
It is a tale of determination, endurance, self-delusion and unchecked masochism, set in a world where appearances and reputation are worth their weight in gold.
No, I'm not talking about “The Substance,” writer-director Coralie Fargeat's gruesome satire about the pressure exerted on aging female celebrities to hold on to their good looks, by any means necessary, though we'll get to it in a jiffy. I am talking about the experience of sitting through this celebrated conversation piece, yet another foray into body horror in what can now be called a 2024 trend.
The curtain rises on a robustly attended press screening at AMC Aventura 24, where a who's who of local reviewers and entertainment reporters are buzzing about the lengthy takedown of male chauvinism that reportedly wowed a late-night crowd at this year's Cannes Film Festival, where "The Substance" walked away with the jury prize for Best Screenplay. It is a much bigger turnout than most Cannes winners yield for a local advance screening.
Margaret Qualley as Sue and Demi Moore as Elisabeth Sparkle in a scene from "The Substance." (Photo courtesy of MUBI).
The auditorium darkens, the screen lights up, and Fargeat begins her epic rant about the evils of showbiz on a clever note, as she depicts the unveiling of a star on Hollywood's Walk of Fame, then follows its trajectory, from the paparazzi-infested ceremony, all the way into neglect and disrepair.
“The Substance” then fills the screen with the saturated colors of a workout show broadcast, hosted by the now barely A-lister being feted on the Walk of Fame. Starlet-turned-fitness-guru Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) swivels her hips as she encourages the harried housewives watching at home to keep up with her. The Chiclets smile never wavers.
But Elisabeth is blissfully unaware that her 50th birthday has triggered a silent alarm for the TV network that hired her. She overhears the head honcho, named Harvey (get it?), excited about finding her replacement. The other shoe drops fast. A lunch date. Fake words of sympathy by Harvey (a cartoonish Dennis Quaid) as he stuffs crawfish into his mouth with the finesse of a 6-year-old who's several mouthfuls away from getting a tummy ache. Much like Joan Crawford at one point in her career, she's box office poison, or its TV ratings equivalent.
Dropped like yesterday's trash. Elisabeth is still trying wrap her head around the swiftness with which she's been tossed aside. There must be something she can do. Enter the titular procedure, which promises extended youth and beauty, as long as its strict rules are followed. The extreme treatment is the brainchild of The Doctor (the voice of Tom Morton), a shadowy figure who remains a disembodied voice on the phone. How under the table is “The Substance's” Substance? The lime green fluid has to be self-injected.
Margaret Qualley as Sue in a scene from "The Substance." (Photo courtesy of MUBI).
Cue the horrific visuals that show Elizabeth, fueled by desperation and the prodding of her internalized misogyny, convulsing on the bathroom floor of her plush Los Angeles pad. I'll spare you the specifics, but it doesn't take long for her to come face to face with the younger woman who has come from her own flesh and blood. (Squeamish viewers, you may want to sit this one out, or at least wait until you can fast forward through the icky parts, which are plentiful and leave nothing to the imagination.)
The early scenes of “The Substance” are broad and caustic. They show that, even though Fargeat clearly has Something to Say about the way the entertainment industry chews up and spits out its aging female stars, she also wants to have fun with the material. As long as this is the case, her sophomore feature remains compulsively watchable, a Frankenstein-monster mashup of “The Picture of Dorian Gray” and “Death Becomes Her,” with a dash of “All About Eve” and “Showgirls” thrown in for good measure.
And yet, questions begin to form in the back of my head, such as what was Elisabeth's career like before she went the Jane Fonda exercise route? Why a fitness show? It seems passé, especially because the film appears to be set in the present day. What film or TV show put our protagonist on the map? Does she still talk to her family? The lack of inner life is likely a purposeful decision by Fargeat to convey how showbiz leeches all that you are until the struggle to stay relevant is all that remains, but it begins to render her allegory repetitive and one-note.
But still, curiosity nudges one to keep going, as Elisabeth is confronted with the grind of observing the cardinal rule of her treatment: She has to swap bodies every seven day. No exceptions. Her younger self (Margaret Qualley), who anoints herself Sue, begins to have other ideas. The ensuing tug of war (the War of the Bodies) is rife with potential, but it's around this point that “The Substance” stops being fun and starts becoming a chore.
Demi Moore as Elisabeth Sparkle in a scene from "The Substance." (Photo courtesy of MUBI).
Then you realize the movie, which clocks in at a punishing 140 minutes, has more than an hour left to go. Uh-oh.
There's a reason why the body horror features directed by David Cronenberg, a significant influence here, never went past the 100-minute mark. The startling sight of deforming flesh and violently distorted limbs is something that's most effective in limited doses, doled out at strategic points for maximum effect. But Fargeat, who is able to establish a balance between Hollywood send-up and grotesque nightmare fuel during the first half of “The Substance,” chooses excess. Then more excess on top of that. Her stubborn rigidity in showing what happens when the rules are disobeyed kicks into overdrive, a decision that turns the rest of the film into a shrill, bloated provocation.
It feels at one point that Fargeat is preparing to wrap things up, but no. She's just warming up for her grisly coup de grace, a stomach-churning resolution she's in no hurry to see unfold. Characters make rash decisions. Jaw-droppingly stupid behavior reigns supreme, intertwined with stabs at humor that land with a thud, all to appease the gaping maw of the filmmaker's anger, and “The Substance” goes off the rails in ways that obliterate the considerable goodwill it has generated. The film's blinding rage, its perennially raised fist, drowns out solid work by Moore and Qualley, but Fargeat pushes forth, not unlike a dominatrix who continues to inflict pain long after you've screamed out the safe word.
Dennis Quaid as Harvey in a scene from "The Substance." (Photo courtesy of MUBI).
By the time it reaches the finish line, “The Substance” has transformed into an aberration, an episode of “Tales from the Crypt” ballooned into nearly five times its standard length. It becomes every bit as vile and repugnant as the misogyny it so rightfully rails against. Like the women at its center, it doesn't know when to stop. To say it's too much is the biggest of understatements. It's obscene for all the wrong reasons.
The turmoil inside my head as “The Substance” kept lashing away played out in sharp contrast to the laughter and gasps of surprise from my preview audience. I sat there, internally begging for mercy that never came, at once numb yet seething at a film that wields shock value like a blunt instrument, initially as playful jabs, then with all the might of a battering ram. (Talk about beating a dead horse!) I limped away, exhausted and spent.
But as the saddest of curtains fell on this sorry night, my knives were already being sharpened. Because it turns out Fargeat is not the only one who can draw blood.
Margaret Qualley as Sue in a scene from "The Substance." (Photo courtesy of MUBI).
“The Substance” is now playing across South Florida in wide release, including at Regal South Beach, AMC Aventura, Silverspot Cinema in downtown Miami, Cinépolis in Coconut Grove and Paradigm Cinemas: Gateway Fort Lauderdale.
