I haven't left a horror film with a grin on my face in a long time. That was the case with The Substance, a freshly minted chunk of body horror that ends with so much unrestrained wildness, I found it impossible not to smile, even if I winced a bit.
Director Coralie Fargeat delivers a boldly stylish movie that doesn't flinch when it comes to satirizing female obsession with looks and aging.
Demi Moore plays a nationally known celebrity, the smiling host of a TV aerobics show. But wait. A career based on a streamlined body has an expiration date. So it's no surprise when an aging Elisabeth learns that she's been fired by her callous boss, Dennis Quaid in a broad, clownish performance as Harvey, an unashamed misogynist with boorish table manners.
Watching Harvey gobble shrimp is enough to put off your popcorn.
An early-picture auto accident lands Elisabeth in the hospital, where she's approached by a young man who tells her that she's a candidate for a new treatment. All she has to do is call a number she's been given. After a bit of waffling, she phones.
The call sets up the movie's major twist. Sparkle learns about The Substance, a fluid she'll inject into her body to produce a younger, better version of herself. This new self, which emerges from an agonizing split along Elisabeth's spine, is named Sue. She's played by a youthful, vibrant Margaret Qualley.
Sue, of course, takes over Sparkle's show, becoming the aggressively exuberant star of Pump It Up With Sue.
Elisabeth's rebirth comes with rules. Sue only can function in the world for a week at a time before Elisabeth returns. They’re supposed to alternate weeks.
Both are constantly reminded that, despite appearances, they're the same person. One can't escape the other.
Absurd? Of course, but Elisabeth's bitterness eventually clashes with Sue's ambition, and ... well ... it doesn't much matter what happens next.
What matters is the slickly realized environment Fargeat creates; she invents an encompassing reality, establishes its rules, and flows her story through a cascade of exaggerated close-ups, highly stylized interiors, and, yes, blood and gore.
She also alludes to earlier masters such as David Cronenberg and Stanley Kubrick. Film references aside, The Substance feels freshly imagined as an in-your-face exploration of the perils of vanity and the society that seems to demand it.
You'll find ample helpings of nudity from Moore, who's now 61, and Qualley, who's 29. The nudity is bold but free of erotic cliches. When the camera zooms in on Sue's butt (during her show), it feels as if we're looking at curves that have been cast in polished plastic.
We know the Substance code will be violated. When that happens, Elisabeth begins to age in punishing ways, becoming a grotesque crone in bits and pieces.
As for nudity, Moore seems to be saying that her body belongs to her and she'll show as much of it as she wants. Rather than pandering to it, her nudity challenges the male gaze.
Elisabeth and Sue square off, but Fargeat, whose movie won best screenplay at last May's Cannes Film Festival, has the final word with a Grand Guignol of a finale that refuses to allow either character to wriggle off the hook.
A bizarre riff on the price of pursuing impossible goals, The Substance barges its way through a whirl of imaginative images, but it only can go so far: It's not easy to make a "deep" film about a movie that’s preoccupied with surfaces.
Still, Fargeat gives her film a shockingly vivid presence, and her two actresses turn their performances into boldly assertive statements about the tyranny of youth, beauty, and the unappeased hunger for both.
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