Long Live The New Flesh: ‘The Substance’ Is an Instant Body Horror Classic

There’s an inherent, almost post-modern irony about Coraline Fargeat’s much-anticipated second feature after 2017’s Revenge simply within its title. The Substance not only eludes to the mysterious and vague miracle drug at the center of this brazen body horror and its ensuing allegory of addiction but also as a meta-textual middle finger to the very notion of “style over substance.”

Revenge was a bold and brutal piece of work with a raging hellfire in its belly that stared back into the male gaze and spat in its face. A feminist reclamation of the rape-revenge film that was dripping with as much style as it was gushing with blood, as it announced Fargeat as a brave and brash new cinematic voice screaming to the high heavens that subtlety is for cowards. This time, Fargeat is putting beauty, aging and feminine self-loathing all under the spotlight in The Substance, a modern riff on John Frankenheimer’s psychological sci-fi horror classic Seconds by way of Paul Verhoeven and David Cronenberg. And just like the late great Alan Rickman exclaimed when he won the Best Supporting Actor BAFTA for his pantomime, moustache-twirling portrayal of the villainous Sheriff of Nottingham in 1991’s Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, The Substance‘s eyebrow-raising Best Screenplay win at Cannes serves to us all as “a healthy reminder that subtlety isn’t everything.”

Wasting absolutely no time in setting its tone, the film opens with the construction and unveiling of a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame for actress Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore), followed by a montage of its subsequent and inevitable neglect over the years. Emblematic of her ever-diminishing fame, the star becomes more faded and cracked and is ignored by passersby, all except for an unlucky tourist who drops a hamburger on it. We’re told that Elisabeth was a respected and acclaimed actress, but made her real fame and fortune on her own Jane Fonda-esque aerobic workout TV show. Now in her 50s, her show is unceremoniously axed and the network immediately begins to look for a younger replacement.

Angry, distraught, and now rattled from a nasty car accident (where she was distracted by her own face being torn down from a billboard), a rare and unusual opportunity arises for Elisabeth. A mysterious nurse informs her she’s an ideal candidate for a secretive experimental drug known simply as the Substance, a neon green serum that once injected (and only once) divides the cells and creates a younger, fitter, stronger, and better copy of yourself. Yearning to be in the limelight once more, Elisabeth take the substance and one painful expulsion process later, she is reborn as a spritely and youthful version of herself (Margaret Qualley), adopting the alter ego, Sue.

Trading in Elisabeth’s quaint blue leotard and legwarmers for a skimpier metallic pink bodysuit, Sue instantly is hired as Elisabeth’s replacement and creates a livelier, glitzier, more sexually charged version of her old show. But just like owning a Mogwai, there are very important rules to using the Substance that must be followed to the letter. You must switch back between your old body and your new body every seven days without exception. Ignoring this can have some pretty serious consequences, so when Sue gets too caught up in the euphoric thrill of being young again and begins to disrespect this very delicate balance, it brings some monstrous and irreversible side effects.

As you can gauge from that description, The Substance is not ashamed to say “subtext be damned” and be so upfront about admittedly blunt portrayals of institutional sexism, absurd beauty standards for women, and drug addiction and it never once feels like a smug overstatement of a shallow message. That is all due to Coralie Fargeat’s talent behind the camera as she flexes her formalist muscles in crafting a film that is completely and unabashedly batshit insane. The glossy, sun-soaked, candy-colored visuals and settings feel as if it were ripped directly from a graphic novel and adds to the heightened, borderline cartoonish atmosphere of the film. As do all the sleazy, lecherous men that inhabit this world, headlined by Dennis Quaid’s network executive character, Harvey. Quaid is having way too much fun as a truly repugnant slimeball that is essentially Donald Trump meets Vince McMahon. Fargeat shooting Quaid with almost exclusively distorted wide-angle lenses only adds to his grotesque nature. One scene in particular where he gorges himself on cocktail shrimp in a restaurant is arguably more disgusting then any instant of body horror and is somehow not the only stomach-churning moment of the film involving food. (Apologies if you like chicken drumsticks because they will be ruined for you after this film.)

The Substance is as much a character piece as it is a sharp social satire and grizzly body horror. Fargeat takes this chaotic world and somewhat grounds it with a narrow and insular focus through the lens of Elisabeth/Sue. Elisabeth may not be the most modest celebrity ever as she has a giant framed photograph of herself in the living room of her luxurious apartment. But she doesn’t fit the mold of a typical Hollywood diva or even a delusional, egocentric Norma Desmond type. She begins the film as a sympathetic character; a woman who has reluctantly been thrown into a crossroads in her life due to the ludicrous misogyny of the entertainment industry. Once she takes the Substance and Sue is brought to life, the two bodies very quickly become two distinct personalities, despite the constant reminders from both the Substance’s instructions and the enigmatic voice at the other end of the Substance’s contact number reinforcing them that they are one. This symbiosis breaking down after the first few highs of being in Sue’s skin is where the film starts to get much nastier. Fargeat has to maintain an acrobatic level balancing act in not demonising Elisabeth and Sue’s actions that could undercut or counteract the social commentary, but also creating a morbid spectacle of their inevitable karmic descent into a fleshy, bloody hell, and she does so with ease.

Such an outlandish and in-your-face film requires performers that can bring that same level of energy and spirit to every scene and Fargeat hit the jackpot casting Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley as Elisabeth and Sue, respectively. Moore and Qualley’s striking performances work beautifully in tandem with each other; Moore as the neglected, disillusioned celebrity whose star is fading and is desperate to reclaim her youth, fame, and her namesake “Sparkle,” and Qualley as the hot, naive, bubbly young woman with an infectious smile who’s slowly being consumed by her own vanity. Both are brilliant and transformative in the figurative and literal sense, but Demi Moore in particular is on another level in The Substance. To even be asked to play Elisabeth could seem like a giant back-handed compliment for an actress of a certain age whose career is not as prolific as it once was. But not for Demi Moore. She gallantly embraces every inch of this role that is stunt casting of the highest order. It’s a role that asks her to go to some pretty brave and extreme places and Moore is game for all it, giving the greatest and most complete performance of her storied career.

Moore will surely be lauded for the more physically demanding aspects of her performance that are truly astonishing, but she also brings a sly and disarming level of vulnerability that makes her performance so special. There’s a scene where Elisabeth is back in her own body and is experiencing what can only be described as “Sue withdrawals.” She plans to go out for a drink with an old high school classmate she awkwardly and uncomfortably reconnected with earlier in the film. She clearly doesn’t remember him and doesn’t seem interested as he comes across more like an obsessive fan than an old friend, but she goes ahead with the date anyway as way to feel comfortable as her real self again and take a chance on perhaps the only person that still admires and values her for who she is.

But Elisabeth is quickly overcome by doubt and self-hatred getting ready for her date as she stares longingly into the bathroom mirror hoping that someone she finds desirable will stare back. Seeing her warped reflection in the doorknob as she’s about to leave, constantly adjusting her outfit and make-up and the cruelly placed billboard of Sue outside her window smugly glaring at her with a face that shouts, “You’re not going out like that, are you?’ all leads to Elisabeth spiraling into a fit of depressive rage. The Substance features some of the gnarliest, most disgusting moments of body horror that would make Frank Henenlotter, Brian Yuzna, and the aforementioned David Cronenberg all collectively weep, yet this scene is was the most impactful and skin-crawling in the whole film. No bodily abnormalities or gore are present but Fargeat and Moore instead play with these horrors of anxiety and inadequacy to frighteningly accurate perfection. For a film that prides itself on its outwardly unsubtle nature, a quieter nuanced moment like this is genuinely jarring, but that’s what makes it so effective. It’s a brief moment of respite from the unbridled madness that still manages to shatter you with existential dread and demonstrates Fargeat’s skilled handle on tone and surgically precise understanding of knowing when to use the feather and when to use the sledgehammer.

But for almost every other moment of The Substance,  that trusty ol’ reliable sledgehammer is used and given an almighty swing, pulverising everything beneath it. 141 minutes of such straightforward and blatant satirical social commentary and intense, graphic body horror would be grating and obnoxious in the wrong hands, but Coralie Fargeat’s willingness and demented enthusiasm to not hold back for a second makes The Substance, whether you are captivated or disgusted by it, such an unforgettable film that you cannot take your eyes off. Its entry into the horror canon is all but guaranteed, as is Coralie Fargeat’s title as cinema’s newest maestra of maximalism.

Follow MovieBabble on Twitter @MovieBabble_ and Follow Sean @seanhub_

Thank you for reading! What are your thoughts on The Substance? Comment down below!

If you enjoyed this article, subscribe to MovieBabble via email to stay up to date on the latest content.

Join MovieBabble on Patreon so that new content will always be possible.